


I'm Still Here

by dean_n_pie



Category: Supernatural, Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Betrayal, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Slash, based on treasure planet, i needed to do this, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:18:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/dean_n_pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has always had the romantic notion that space would change everything for him. So when he gets the opportunity to board a ship and go on a search for what most believe to be a legend, he takes it in a heartbeat. Together with his brother and his adopted uncle, he heads off to the spaceport, where he boards a boat and meets sailor Castiel, a strange lad who seems out-of-place on the futuristic ship. He and Castiel hit it off almost immediately, while Sam is forced to befriend the kitchen worker Gabriel, a cyborg with a penchant for tricks and jokes. Both boys don't realize that they are in for the time of their lives, writing a story that will stay with them for forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> oh god i can already feel the commitment this fic is gonna take.
> 
> okay i was watching Treasure Planet and in the flashback scenes jim hawkins looked like young dean so i got emotional and felt the need to write this AU. 
> 
> really sorry if anyone's already done this, not trying to step on anyone's toes here.
> 
> not totally sure when I'll update next, mainly because I still need to finish my gabriel big bang before moving on to a completely different fic lol.  
> ill try to make it every couple weeks (sorry) until i have a better schedule figured out.
> 
> nothing belongs to me please don't sue i need to pay for college.
> 
> comments would be wonderful :)

Montressor, year 3516

"Dean Michael Winchester! You and your brother were supposed to be asleep hours ago!"

"But Mom!" Dean whined, handing the book to Sam and making his best puppy-dog face. "We were just getting to the part about Azazel's hidden trove! We can't stop now, otherwise Sammy won't know how it ends! And he has to know how it ends before he goes to bed, Mom!"

Sam nodded solemnly, eyes wide and intelligent as he held the book upright. The weakly lit illustrations of pirate ships illuminated his young face, and Mary smiled softly in the wake of her sons' enthusiasm. 

She moved over to the bed and scooted in between Dean and Sam, taking the book and hugging the boys close to her. "Fine. Let's hear about Azazel's final conquest."

"Yes!" Dean cheered, planting a wet kiss on Mary's cheek. He snuggled in closer as Sam did the same on the other side. Mary opened the book and waited for the holograms to start up again.

"It was the stuff of legends, the Colt. Built by the famous shipmaker Samuel Colt himself, the boat was said to be indestructible. No one could pirate it. No one but one Azazel "Yellow-Eyes" Diable, the pirate who roamed the celestial skies building a treasure trove bigger than all who had come before him. The Colt was Azazel's greatest and final victory. The Colt was stormed and boarded within the hour, terrified guests fleeing from the piercing gaze of Captain Azazel. There were no survivors after the attack, only an empty floating ship with none of the jewels it has set off with."

Dean and Sam looked at each other with awe in their eyes, Mary rolling her eyes halfheartedly between them. She turned the page and the fuzzy image of a planet rose from the pages of the virtual book. 

"To this day, no one can explain how Captain Azazel did it all - stole the treasures of a thousand worlds and vanished, leaving only empty husks in his wake. There are rumors that tell of a map, a map that will give directions to Azazel's trove, if only the right person finds it. Maybe someday Treasure Planet will be discovered, but until that day, Azazel's story remains a mystery to us all." 

The light faded away and Mary closed the book, making to sit up. Dean bounced on the bed, eyes bright. He leaned around Mary and pulled Sam up, stumbling around her legs to pose with him, arm outstretched and snarling.

"Me and Sammy, we're gonna fight pirates and find the treasure, Mom! Just you wait!" Dean cried, and Sam mimicked his stance, pretending to hold a sword and brandishing it at invisible enemies. "Any evil pirate tries to take our treasure, we'll show them!" At this, Dean waved his sword above his head, overbalancing and falling over, taking Sam with him. They ended up on the floor, giggling, and Mary peered over the edge of the bed at them.

"I'm sure you will someday, but all pirate-fighters need their sleep. Otherwise you won't be able to battle!" she said, pulling Dean to the bed and tickling his stomach. He gasped and tried to twist away in vain. Sam popped up next to the bed and joined in with the tickling, grabbing Dean's feet as he squirmed away from Mary's grasp. 

Letting out a breathless chuckle, Mary let him go, where he turned on Sam and began tickling his feet in vengeance. The book fell off the bed and landed with a loud thump on the floor. She reached over, ignoring the struggling boys, and picked it up, returning it to its place in the bookshelf. 

"Alright now, boys," she said, standing up. "Time for bed. For real this time." Dean scrambled under the covers and Sam darted off to his own bed, doing the same. She smiled, heading over to Sam's bed. "Goodnight, love."

Sam mumbled tiredly, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek. "'Night, Mommy."

She kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair back; Sam turned over on his side and sniffed, nose scrunching up, as he closed his eyes.

Dean sighed as she walked over to her, eyes slipping closed tiredly. "Mom?" he asked, hugging her and burying his neck into her shoulder. "Do you think Azazel's trove is really out there?" 

Mary thought hard before answering. "I don't know, sweetie. But if it is, I know you'll find it. Because you're so smart."

"Me and Sammy will, Mom. Just like we promised. We'll be -" he yawned - "we'll be famous, and popular, and rich. Because me and Sammy'll find Treasure Planet."

Mary kissed him on his forehead and pulled back. "I know you will, baby. You're gonna do great things, I can tell."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm your mother, and neither of my boys will be anything less than brilliant."

Dean laughed and sank further down the covers, covering up his mouth and nose. "Night, Mom."

"Sweet dreams."

Dean rolled over, facing the wall, and closed his eyes. Mary walked over to the door and called a, "I love you," over her shoulder. Two replies came back to her, and she smiled, closing the door and heading downstairs.


	2. 13 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's a felon and Sam isn't all too happy to be working at the family inn, but everything changes for them when a ship carrying the mysterious Killian Baldr crashes at the end of their dock. He brings with him an object that will change their lives forever.

Montressor, 3529

Dean felt the wind buffet against his face as he tore through the gorge, riding the solar surfer like an old pro. He skimmed the ground, reaching down to grab a smooth pebble from the rocky floor below him, chucking it up at the sky. He swerved, maneuvering the surfer vertical, parallel with the canyon wall. The sky was a brilliant pearly white, and he watched as the shadows changed relative to the rocky face of the canyon. He righted his surfer, turning the nose up and surging up out of the canyon. 

The canyon dust had long since settled, and Dean could feel the surfer stirring up the motes as he spiraled up the wall. The surfer jumped, and Dean gripped the handhold tightly, pulling his body in close to the sail. The canyon became a speck underneath him, and only then did he halt his relentless climb, leaning backward and closing the sail with a twist of his foot. The straps held him in place as he hurtled downward head first, helicoptering out of the dive at the last possible moment by re-positioning his foot, making the deep-red sail expand once more. He ascended into the sky, letting out a cheerful whoop, and spread his arms out, balancing carefully on the flat of the surfer. The canyon was close once more, and Dean sank back into it, twisting and turning around jutted-out rocks and towering columns. 

The cave was only a short way ahead, and he pulled right, a sharp turn, taking a shortcut home through the old miner's shaft. It wasn't, strictly speaking, legal, but Dean figured that the Robocops wouldn't be out at noon on a Wednesday. He turned on the illuminating feature on the surfer, lighting up the cave and warning Dean of objects in the way.

He got through the cave in what seemed to be no time at all, rising out of the darkness and reverting his sail to normal once more. Closing his eyes and slowing down, he reveled in the feel of the light breeze caressing his face. The faint sound of sirens came up behind him. Rolling his eyes and wincing, he pulled over to the edge of the canyon and reeled in his solar surfer, waiting for the Robocops to lay into him.

They pulled over jerkily, turning only their heads toward him.

"Dean Winchester?" One asked, automated voice coming out mechanic and scratchy.

"Depends on who's asking," Dean replied, giving the cops a snarky grin.

"You have been caught trespassing. This violates your previously given probation, which came about two months ago for the same infraction."

"You're coming with us." Robocop Number Two stated, making an arbitrary grab for Dean's arm, gesturing to the solar surfer. "Give us the surfer and come peacefully."

Dean snarled but handed over the board, watching as the robot programmed it to follow a strict course, one leading directly to his home. He grimaced, thinking of how his mother was gonna react. The Robocops began moving off, indicating that Dean get on his surfer and remain close behind them.

Sighing and turning his gaze skyward, he hopped onto the surfer and clicked his heel, setting off on the long path to home.

_Great._

~~

Sam straightened up from where he was busing tables, carting the large bucket off to the kitchen of the inn. The customers chatted loudly in the dining area, sounds of gossip and excitement interspersed with the sound of clinking forks and scraping knives. Breakfast as usual at the old Lawrence Inn - too many mouths to feed for him and his mom alone, with Dean nowhere to be found. He scrubbed the plates harshly, putting them in a side drawer as he waited for them to fully dry. Normally Dean would be here helping, but Sam had heard him leave early in the morning, trying to escape before the official opening of the bed-and-breakfast.

Sam's only been wallowing in shallow self-pity for a couple moments when he heard the door to the Lawrence crash open and a hush fall over the dining crowd. He peeked out of the kitchen door, seeing Dean standing there flanked by two Robocops. They looked angry (well, as angry as two hulking pieces of metal can look) and were gesturing wildly at Mary. Mary, head shaking from side to side, was gripping Dean's arm so tightly that it was wrinkling the fabric. No one spoke.

Sam could hear the conversation. Something about Dean violating his probation by taking the illegal route home, and Mary snapped at Dean, shaking his arm. Dean refused to make eye contact with anyone, instead staring mutinously at the ground. Eventually the Robocops left, leaving an awkward silence in their wake. Mary turned to face Dean and the crowd resumed talking, markedly louder than before. Sam shook his head, ducking back into the kitchen and resuming his work. 

Moments later, Dean shuffled through the door, carrying another load of dirty dishes that he dumped unceremoniously at Sam's side. He pulled out the wet dishes and began drying them, stacking them neatly next to the sink.

The silence continued, piercing and uncomfortable. Sam decided to end it.

"So what'd you get called on this time? Riding the construction yard? Skinny surfing?" Sam asked

"Took the mine home, smartass. Apparently Terminator One and Two didn't like it so much, so they headed me off at the other end and were on me before I could cruise home. Called me on my probation and took my surfer." 

Sam gasped. "They took your surfer? Dude, I'm sorry, that rots."

Dean simply shrugged, playing with the knob in front of the window to display a light sunset out the window. Sam went back to washing plates, handing them to his brother when he was done. "What did Mom say?"

Dean snorted. "Her usual line - 'Dean, if you don't shape up, you'll be in Academy before you can say spaceport.' Yeah, right. Hasn't shipped me off yet."

Sam nudges him with a shoulder. "C'mon, she's had it really hard since everything with Dad."

"What, and I haven't? You were only a baby, Sam, you don't remember how bad it was."

Sam sighed, turning away from Dean. "Cut her some slack, man. She doesn't deserve this."

The sounds of clinking cutlery from the dining room eased, and Sam muttered a quick, "Be right back," before venturing out into the room along with the bucket. He grabbed the used plates and forks and spoons, taking care to toss the dirty napkins and wrappers. The salt and pepper shakers that were empty he took, stowing them in his apron pocket to be refilled. Before making his way back into the kitchen, he glanced over at the table in the corner, where Mary was seated next to Bobby Singer, town drunk and astronomer. He was rubbing her shoulder slowly, comfortingly. She was muttering into her hands, too quiet for Sam to make out, but it didn't take a genius to realize she was talking about Dean. 

Almost everyone else had left, so Sam took his time cleaning up the tables. Bobby's eyes had strayed toward him from time to time, making sure that he stayed his distance and didn't eavesdrop. He could see his mom pull out a locket from beneath her dress, one that he knew contained pictures of Dean and him on the inside. She wiped her eyes, staring into the locket. Figuring it was time to go and wanting to give her some privacy, he hauled up the bucket and maneuvered back to the kitchen.

Upon entering, he noticed Dean was missing and there were a pile of clean plates and trays where he should have been working. Sam swore, slamming down the bucket of dirty dishes, and leaned against the sink.

_"That bastard."_

He got to work cleaning the dishes, leaving them out in the open where Dean couldn't miss them, a loud and clear sign that Sam was pissed off and not in a forgiving mood. Sam finished cleaning the rest of the plates, then moved all the wet ones back into the container where Dean could find them later. 

If he found them later. Sam sighed.

~~

Dean crawled out of the kitchen window after Sam had gone out into the dining room, making sure his share of the plates was clean and dry and put away. He scaled the roof quickly, coming to lean against the siding of the chimney. It was a comfortable heat against the solid line of his back, making him feel warm and grounded. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the brisk summer wind on his face. If he tried hard enough, he could make believe it was a celestial drift, swiping across his face as he lounged upon the deck rail of a boat, a luxurious liner. 

Fun to imagine, but Dean had no belief that it would ever happen. He was stuck on Montressor, and a trip like that would be too good to be true. Sighing, he slid down the chimney until he was laying on his back under a starry sky, tracing constellations with his fingers. Orion. Little Dipper. Big Dipper. Sirius. The Bear. They were all there, if one knew where to look. As Dean had read almost every book at the town library on constellations, he could name almost every one in the sky and find their location. Within reason, of course.

He was startled from his internal reverie by the muffled sound of his name coming from within the inn. Curious, he leaned toward the window, trying to hear as much of the conversation as possible.

"He just - Dean has so much potential, Bobby, I can't bear to see him waste it anymore. I mean, he could go to school for so many things! He built his own solar surfer was he was 8, tweaked Sam's to the point of perfection, something even his dad couldn't do. He has magic hands, Bobby. But he's not helping himself by getting caught up on charges of trespassing and stupid things like this!"

"Mary, it's okay. All boys go through a rebellious stage sometime in their lives. It's human. It don't mean that Dean isn't gonna turn out good as can be," came Bobby's voice, gruff and low, but somehow strangely reassuring. Dean could see him wrap his hands around Mary's, stroking her arm. "He's gonna turn around, just give him a couple months."

Mary shook her head, looking defeated. "I don't know if I can, Bobby... I'm at the end of my rope with this. I don't know how many more times I can see Dean come in with Robocops at his back because he did something illegal." Her head dropped into her hands and Bobby moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders, hugging her tightly and patting her forearm. Dean turned away, jaw clenching. 

_"She doesn't deserve this."_ Sam's voice echoed in his head. Dean picked up a stray piece of metal from the roof and threw it off the edge, watching as it flew past the dock and into the deep abyss of space below him. He pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around and resting his chin on them. He tried to ignore Mary's voice, but it drilled into his skull anyway.

"I think it has something to do with his father dying. He still blames himself, Bobby, I know he does." Mary said. "I've told him countless times that it was the war, not him, but he doesn't believe me. He thinks his father left because he wasn't a good son, but that's not it." She sounded frustrated, and Dean rubbed at his face, trying to get rid of the pressure behind his eyelids.

"Some days... some days I just wish that he would come to the door and be 7 again, holding up a strange new pet, Sammy brightly begging me to let us keep it."

Dean turned away, covering his ears. In the corner of his vision a bright spark appeared, growing bigger by the second. Confused, he squinted, trying to see it better. At first glance he thought it was a meteor, but on second glance -

It was a ship, hurtling toward the Lawrence, out of control and spiraling downward. It crashed on the end of the dock, and Dean slid down the roof, hopping off, then made a mad dash for the sparking ship. He approached it cautiously, hands held up in a semblance of self-defense, and peered in the window. It was foggy inside the ship, and Dean backed away slightly, trying to maintain a safe distance from it. 

The door to the hatch opened, and out stumbled a tall misshapen figure, more lizard then human. Dean's eyes widened as the figure crashed to the floor of the dock, reaching out a hand toward Dean. Dean scrambled over to him, pulling him up and slinging his arm under his shoulder. 

"Mister? What's your name?"

There was a loud series of hacking coughs, and then the stranger answered in a scratchy voice. "Baldr, Killian Baldr. You gotta -" He clutched at his chest, breaking off into a gasp. Dean started walking with him, tugging him along, as he tried to get him inside the Lawrence, where someone could hopefully help him. As they struggled along the pier, a large clunk came from Baldr as a strange chest fell from one of his coat pockets.

"The chest, boy, grab the chest, can't lose the chest!" Baldr called, reaching in vain toward it. Dean stretched out his arm and grabbed it. tucking it in the crook of his elbow and continuing on their way. Baldr was growing heavier by the second, and Dean didn't want to think about what that meant.

"Aw, shit, Mom is gonna have an aneurysm," Dean muttered.

~~

Sam had just finished wiping down the tables and the chairs when the door crashed open and a shriek came from where Mary and Bobby were sitting. He glanced toward the door and froze. Dean was standing there, drenched in rainwater, and alongside him was some weird lizard-human hybrid, leaning heavily on Dean and coughing. 

"Mom, come help, I think he's hurt," Dean called, struggling over to a chair to put the stranger down on. Sam blinked, barely able to believe his eyes. Bobby was still sitting at the table, eyes trained mistrustfully on the man. Mary had run over to the man, her trusting nature overpowering her innate need to ask Dean what the hell was happening. She felt for the stranger's pulse, then snapped at Sam. "Towels, slightly damp, now!" 

Sam hurried off to the kitchen, rushing to obey her. He grabbed three towels and soaked them in cold water before dashing back to where the stranger sat. On closer inspection, he seemed more lizard than human. His entire torso, which Mary had exposed, was covered with long cuts. Sam handed her the towels wordlessly, and she began draping them over the cuts. Bobby had ventured closer, inspecting the stranger. He began helping Mary cover the cuts, taking one of the towels and wiping the blood from the stranger's face. Both of them moved away slightly, talking in hushed tones and grabbing a nearby bucket to remove the blood from the towels.

The stranger clacked his tongue and curled a long claw at Dean. "The chest, bring me my chest." Dean walked over to him, handing him an ornate box. It was lettered with strange runic symbols and seemed to be impenetrable. Sam watched as the stranger tapped in a long symbolic code, opening the chest. He dug around inside it for a moment before pulling out an orb, marked with circular shapes and jagged lines. The stranger looked at it closely before handing it over to Dean.

"He cannot have it."

Dean looked at the stranger, confused, and Sam followed his lead.

"Who can't have it?" Dean asked. His grip tightened upon the ball, pulling it close to his chest. Sam watched in curiosity. The stranger had pulled Dean in closer and was whispering into his ear. Sam leaned in to be able to hear, only catching the last phrase.

"Beware the cyborg, boy. He will do you no good."

The stranger coughed then, hacking, and closed his eyes. Sam gaped at the stranger, who's grip had loosened upon Dean's shirt. He glanced at Dean, who's face was pale as the sky, still holding the small metal ball. Mary dashed in between the boys and the stranger, feeling again for a pulse. She shook her head and backed off, trading a concerned glance with Bobby.

Sam stumbled backward, realizing that the man - lizard - _thing_ had just died in front of him. Mary's face swam in front of his vision, calm and concerned. "Sam? Sammy, baby, are you alright?" Sam just looked at her, not processing the words. Mary looked off to the side and nodded at someone or something, then turned back to Sam. "Listen, love, it's gonna be okay, hmm? Everything will be alright." She rotated Sam so he was facing away from the body, then hugged him. He could barely hug her back, still in shock.

He heard footsteps, and then a shaft of light came through the fake window. Looking over to the front of the Lawrence, he saw a small slit formed in the window, Dean looking through it. "Might wanna save the touchy-feely for another day, we've got company."

Bobby walked beside him and glanced out the window as well. "Shit!"

He pulled Dean away and ran at Mary and Sam, tugging them away and up the stairs. Sam heard a loud crash come from where they had just been standing, and turned back slightly to see a large beam of light come through the window and explode upon impact with the wall opposite. The group of four stumbled along the upstairs hallway as a loud bang came from downstairs, throwing the door open. Sam could hear cries of anger from below, along with hisses and the sound of people rummaging through drawers. There was a cry - "Where is it?" - that was answered with a, "That's what I want to know! Find it!"

Sam let go of his mom's hand, him and Dean pushing Bobby and Mary ahead into their room, bolting the door and blocking it with their dresser. Bobby had leaned out the window and whistled, and Baxter appeared under the window, pulling a carriage along behind him. The sound of footsteps upon stairs reached them and Sam swore. Bobby was currently holding Mary's hand and instructing her to jump out the window into the waiting carriage. Sam and Dean made eye contact and, reaching an unspoken agreement, dashed toward the window, pushing Bobby and Mary out ahead of them with a call of "Now!" 

All four of them tumbled out of the room onto the hard carriage. Bobby quickly grabbed the reins, lashing them, and called out, "Yah!", causing Baxter to buck forward and dash off. Sam was still sprawled along the backseat, heart racing, and saw Mary and Dean laying in front of him. At a loud explosion Mary turned toward the Lawrence, only barely visible in the dark night. Sam turned as well, and the sight made his heart sink. The Lawrence was in flames, the rain doing nothing to stop it. He turned back with the intention of comforting his mother, only to see her collapsed in her seat, head buried in her hands and shoulders shaking. Dean was looking stonily out the side of the carriage, away from Mary, muscle clenching in his jaw. 

Sam sat back, rubbing his hand over his face. _This is gonna be an uncomfortable ride._

~~

Dean was currently sitting in a hard-backed chair at Bobby's house, playing with the orb that Baldr had given him. Bobby and Mary were currently sitting near the window, Mary wrapped up in a blanket and drinking some tea that Bobby had made for her. Her eyes were damp and red, and she wasn't speaking much. Bobby sat there in silence as well, patting her knee comfortingly. Sam was next to Dean, watching him play with the strange orb. 

Dean tossed it in the air, catching it. He inspected the strange markings around it, trying to find a pattern in them. With a frustrated sigh, he put it on the table, crossing his arms and glaring at it. Sam glanced at him, wisely not saying anything. Snatches of conversation drifted over to the boys from where Mary and Bobby sat, too low to make out. Dean grabbed the orb once more, trying to pry it apart. His finger slipped; instead of falling off the ball, it pressed in on a circle.

He scrunched up his face, pressing in on the circle again.

"Hey guys? Check this out."

Sam leaned in and Mary and Bobby glanced over from the windowsill. Bobby stood and walked over to where Dean held the orb, looking closely at it. "I still can't figure the damned thing out. There's no mention of it in any of my books, and I've never even heard of something like it." He scoffed. "Maybe it's a dud."

Dean looked up excitedly. "No, no it's not. Watch." He pressed down circles in a seemingly random configuration, then twisted the top half of the sphere. From the orb erupted a hologram, expanding around the entire room. 

"Well, I'll be damned." Bobby whistled, eyes widening. Dean stared at the hologram, mouth open. 

"What is it?" Sam asked. 

"It's a map," Dean replied. He moved toward one of the planet sitting right in front of his face and touched it. It dissolved in sparks, only to reform around his hand. The orb heated up slightly, warming Dean's hand. He glanced down at it, then twisted the orb once more. The map flew by them in slow motion, rotating all the while. Bobby's inner astronomer was coming out, and he pointed out planets as they flew by him. "That's the Leviathan Network, known for its flesh-eating shapeshifters... and that, that's the planet Haele, said to be an alternate reality where rain falls upwards and sun doesn't exist... and that's the Coral Galaxy, I've never seen such a picture, it's amazing..." He trailed off as a large planet formed in front of them, a larger version of the map Dean held in his hands. It was surrounded by two perpendicular rings, hazy in image but obviously there. "I don't believe it."

"That's _Treasure Planet_ ," Dean whispers, awed. "The Treasure Planet, Azazel's Trove, the loot of a thousand worlds..." 

"I thought it was just a myth?" Bobby said, not taking his eyes off the planet. Dean shook his head. 

"And this map will lead us straight to it." Dean watched as Sam approached the grainy image, walking around it and stretching out to touch it. The planet zoomed in around them, and they saw it from the inside. Tons of gold, jewels, and a broken down ship at the center of it all. Dean gasped, amazed. Sam was bouncing up and down on his toes, barely able to contain his excitement. "We could be the ones who find Treasure Planet!"

With a sharp smack of her hand against the table, Mary uttered a sharp, "No!"

Dean, startled, dropped the orb. It clattered to the ground and he hologram disappeared, the light in the room coming back full-force. The group was bathed in a warm yellow glow, the green hue of the map gone. He picked up the orb and carefully shoved it in his pocket, staring at Mary.

She was standing near the table, leaning on it with one hand. Her face was stony, and there was no hint of amazement in her eyes. She glared at each of them in turn, and they quailed under her sharp gaze. "No."

Sam made an aborted attempt to move toward her, but she halted him with one raised eyebrow. "You are not going trekking around the solar system on a goose chase."

"Mom, listen -" Dean started, but she cut him off.

"I said no, Dean."

"But Mom - if we found the treasure, we'd be rich! We could rebuild the Lawrence, send Sammy off to school, we'd live like kings!"

"Dean, what part of _no_ don't you understand?" Her face softened, looking more worried and apprehensive than stern. "You don't even know if this planet exists, you could be throwing away everything for a lie."

Dean walked toward her and grabbed her hands, looking at her earnestly. She tilted her head, watery gaze trained on him. "I don't want to lose you, Dean."

"You won't, Mom, I promise. I'll come back safe and sound."

"Dean, you're only 19, you can't go traversing the entire galaxy alone."

"He won't be alone. I'll go with him," Bobby said, striding forward and clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll be okay, Mary." He smiled at her. "Trust me."

Mary smiled at his words, but her gaze stayed trained on Dean. She reached out a hand and placed it on his cheek; he leaned into the touch, feeling the warmth of her hand sink into his skin. Bobby backed up, letting them have this moment.

"Fine. You can go," she said, relenting. "But you have to promise to be careful. And you better come back. Both of you," she added, gaze flicking to Bobby.

"Don't worry, Mom, we will." Dean hugged her, digging his face into her hair. "I'll make you proud."

He felt her hands come up around his shoulders. "You already do, baby." They stood like that for a while.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Sam's voice erupted from behind them, climbing into a yell. "If Dean gets to go, I get to go!"

Mary sighed and pulled back from the hug, fixing Sam with a stern glare. "Sam, you're only 17, you can't go with him."

"That's not fair! Why does Dean get to go and I don't? I thought we were gonna fight the pirates together!" Sam yelled, face red.

Dean watched as his little brother breathed out heavily, and then turned back to Mary. "I'll take care of him, Mom. We'll take care of each other, promise."

"Dean -" Mary started.

"Oh, Mary, let the boy come with us. He's damned intelligent, maybe he can help me with the plans," Bobby said, gesturing toward Sam. Sam's face lit up, and Dean noticed his head start nodding in agreement with Bobby's words. He glanced back at his mother and could see that she was wavering. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and she leaned into it. "C'mon Mom, me and Sammy work best together, you know that."

She pressed her lips together lightly. "If anything happens to you boys..." She trailed off, rubbing the side of her face. Dean pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Nothing's gonna happen, Mom."

She looked at Dean. "You take care of Sam, now. And Sam, you take care of Dean."

"Why aren't you telling Bobby to take care of us too?" Sam whined.

"Because Bobby is an old man who knows how to take care of himself."

"Old?" Bobby said, frowning at Mary. He winked at Dean. "I'm not old, girl."

Mary sobered up, smiling gently at the three of them. Dean smiled back, hugging her fully. She squeezed him back, whispering a soft, "Be careful, sweetie. Okay?"

"Okay, Mom. I promise. No sacrificial rituals or anything like that, I promise." Mary swatted him on the arm, glint in her eye. Dean backed away as Sam came up to give her a hug as well, gripping her tightly and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Me and Dean will be fine, Mom. Thanks for letting us go." Mary pinched his cheek and smiled. Sam came to stand beside Dean, crossing his arms. Bobby was last to get a hug, and Mary turned to his ear to whisper something too soft for Dean to hear. There was a low rumble as Bobby replied, and whatever he said caused Mary to chuckle slightly, hitting him gently on the arm. He backed away and stood in front of the boys. 

"Well, I'll have to rent a ship and a crew, and pack, but we should be able to get moving by next week," Bobby said, looking at Sam and Dean. Looking past him, Dean saw Mary standing in the middle of the room, watching the trio with a mix of fondness and worry on her face. The light of the room played off of her face, giving it an ethereal look. He thought back to the map with its strange greenish glow; Dean felt excitement rise up in his chest, pushing away the fear and surprise of the recent hours. 

They were going to find Treasure Planet. He could feel it.


	3. The Launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam and Bobby head to the spaceport to board their ship. There, they meet the legendary Captain Ellen Harvelle, who assigns the boys jobs to do over the course of the voyage.

Montressor Spaceport, 3529

The spaceport was loud and crowded; sailors were lounging around watching the crowds pass by them as they waited for their ship to cast off. Vendors called out, trying to coerce people into buying their wares. A cacophony of sound came from everywhere, crashing upon the crowd like waves of legend upon a sandy shore. Sam spun in place, trying to take in everything at once. There was a crisp breeze blowing throughout the port, and Sam inhaled slowly, smile spreading across his face. The surrounding docks were all occupied, sailors moving to and from the ships with ease, some carting belongings and some carting equipment.

Dean cuffed him on the shoulder and turned him around, shoving him forward. "C'mon, Samantha, the boat ain't gonna wait for you to sightsee."

Sam rolled his eyes but continued walking down the narrow road. A small Flatuleon holding his mothers hand blew air in Sam's face, stirring his hair. He chuckled to himself. Dean snorted. They strolled down the path, Sam listening to the cries of sailors and civilians alike. Bobby was only a few steps ahead of them, asking some soldiers about the location of the ship. As Sam stood around waiting, the sun beat down heavily on him, causing stains of perspiration to build up under his clothes. He shielded his eyes and glanced around, admiring the curve of the solar ships that were docked around the spaceport. The one closest to him was a beautiful schooner, a 40-footer with golden ratlines and a specialized bow carved into the shape of a mermaid. Sam had heard tell of the mermaids of the past, only seeing real pictures in books lying around Bobby's house.

"Hey, Dean," Sam started. "What's our ship called?"

Dean, who, in the meantime, had introduced himself to the sailors, turned away from the chuckling men with a grin. "Bobby says she's called the RLS Chevrolet. Think the name's based on some old type of car, I dunno."

Bobby turned away from the sailors, tossing a coin their way as thanks for their troubles. "Speaking of the ship, we'd best be off, boys. It'll set off soon. Don't wanna miss the launch." He hustled away from the soldiers, pushing against the rising tide of the crowd. Mid-morning was always a busy time to be at the port area; it was usually when most launches occurred and when most ships came back in from their travels. The constant ebb and flow of people buffeted Sam and Dean as they made their way across the spaceport, following closely behind Bobby.

As the trio approached the third dock on the right, Sam's eyes widened. Resting there was a magnificent ship, at least 75 feet from bow to stern, colored a deep brown, so dark that the wood looked almost black. Her many sails were spread horizontally across the deck, flying from masts that were at least ten or eleven times the height of Sam himself. He stepped back in awe, craning his neck to look up at the crow's nest, easily 100 feet above the ground. 

Dean had come to a halt next to Sam as well, mouth open and eyes bugging out of his head. His gaze raked across the ship, blinking rapidly as if he were in shock. Sam nudged him with his elbow, before calling out, in a melodramatic imitation of Dean, "C'mon, the boats not gonna wait around for you to sightsee!"

Dean closed his mouth hard, glaring at Sam with no real malice in his eyes. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam returned, laughing. Even after 10-some years, it was still their thing, a stupid little joke that meant family to them. Dumb, but comforting.

"Idjits," Bobby muttered, dragging the cart carrying their belongings up the gangplank. Sam followed close behind, only just resisting the urge to skip.

~~

Dean didn't know what to think, other than _holy shit_. The ship was beautiful, the paint job was wonderful, and he was barely refraining from spinning around in a slow circle until he had actually taken the entire ship in. She was gorgeous. 'RLS Chevrolet' was painted along her side in a vibrant silver, standing out from the dark stain of the wood. Flying from the top of the mast was a flag, golden in color with a symbol of a black hawk. He ascended the piece of wood - what was it called again? glangpunk, or something like that - that connected the dock and the ship, hurrying up to help Bobby with their things. Hefting a navy blue duffel over his shoulder and tossing another yellow one to Sam, the trio walked up to the deck of the ship, dropping their things with a loud _clunk_. 

"Dammit, Bobby, what'd you pack in here? Your entire library?" Dean asked, stretching out his back. He nudged the duffel with his foot, barely able to move it.

"Quit complaining, kid. It's only a couple texts I might need for the trip and some astrology equipment. And I'm pretty sure I never asked for a side order of sass today, so shut your trap," Bobby grumbled, leaning on his cart. Dean threw his hands up in a sarcastic gesture of apology. Crew members passed by them as they stood there, creatures of all types and, surprisingly, a few humans. There was one obscenely large creature there who shoved Dean out of the way, turning around to do nothing more than growl threateningly at him. Still, it was enough, and Dean immediately backed away, rolling his eyes when he heard Sam snigger behind him.

"Shaddup," he muttered. Sam chortled out loud then, pointing at Dean and cackling. 

"Dude, you should have seen your _face_ ," Sam laughed, taking a step back as Dean advanced on him. He stumbled over a loose plank and crashed into another crew member, a Flatuleon who immediately put its tentacles up and emitted a sharp, rapid series of air bursts from its nose and mouth. Sam moved away, and Dean noticed a boot imprint in one of its lower tentacles. 

"Oh gosh, I am so sorry, I totally didn't mean to -" Sam was sputtering, holding his arms up defensively as the air bursts got louder and more erratic. Bobby tilted his head back to look at the sky and muttered what Dean made out to be, "Heaven save me from these idjits," before stomping over to Sam and pushing him aside. He quickly returned the air bursts at the Flatuleon, using his armpits and cheeks to produce roughly the same sounds. The Flatuleon posed for a brief second before emitting a series of high-pitched air bursts, and Dean realized it was cackling. Sam was looking at Bobby in awe.

"I didn't know you spoke Flatula," he said.

Bobby signaled a goodbye to the Flatuleon. "Of course I know Flatula, it's the fourth most popular language in the universe. Can't afford to not know it, me being an astronomer and all. Gotta be able to understand the dialects on other planets." He handed off the cart to a crew member and began moving again, striding across the deck to where the Captain stood. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, then followed him across the newly polished deck. Standing in the center of the deck was a large rocky figure, taller than Sam, calling out orders to the crew. As they got closer to it, they realized it was an actual rock man, a rare species that wasn't normally seen on Montressor. Not only was it a large rock-man hybrid, but he also had a mullet, strands of hair peeking out from underneath his black sailors hat. Bobby reached him first, firmly shaking his hand and tipping his own hat with a, "Captain."

The man laughed and gripped Bobby's hand firmly, if Bobby's quickly hidden grimace was anything to go by. "The pleasure's all mine, old man, but I'm not the captain. The captain is aloft, swinging through the riggings. Should be back in a fast second."

"Beg your pardon, then," Bobby said, casting his eyes upward to the rigging. Sure enough, a figure was rapidly climbing among them, giving the sails perfunctory checks. 

"And who are these lads?" The man's voice boomed, looking over to Dean and Sam with an appraising eye. 

Dean was shoved forward subtly by Sam and, internally swearing at his little brother, stuck his hand out to greet the rock man. His hand was caught in a vice-tight grip in almost no time, and he winced against the pressure. "M'names Dean. Dean Winchester."

"I'm the first mate. Call me Ash."

Sam moved forward next, sticking his hand out in turn and trying not to react as Ash grabbed it enthusiastically, shaking it around a little. "Sam Winchester. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," said Ash, grinning wildly at them. Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, casting his gaze around the ship. A few more of the crew members had come up from below. One was what seemed to be a two-headed serpent with arms and legs, and another a small green creature with more eyes than necessary. Dean tried to not flinch, but the creatures were a little freaky. He glanced over to the stern and saw the huge bulky creature who had shoved him earlier. Shivering, he made a mental note to himself to stay away from that one. 

There was a sudden thump, startling Dean out of his reverie. Standing in front of him, looking at the trio, was a woman outfitted in a blue coat and pale yellow breeches, hands clasped firmly behind her back. Her gaze was flinty, and she inspected each of them in turn before spinning on her heel to face Ash. Ash immediately saluted her with a grin and two fingers resting lazily against his forehead. 

"Mr. Miles, I've just been around the ship to check that everything is in top form. And as usual, damn good job in keeping this lazy bunch active and on spot. I have to say i'm impressed."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am. All I can do," Ash said, smiling down at her. She smiled in return, face softening. After a moment she turned back to face Dean, Sam, and Bobby, who were all standing there with varying expressions of surprise on their faces. 

"Boys." The woman nodded at them, crossing her arms over her chest. Her chin turned up, inspecting them over once. Dean felt naked under her glare, but didn't dare break eye contact and look away. He saw Bobby step forward first, and breathed out silently in pure relief. Next to him, Sam did the same, shoulders relaxing. Bobby stretched out a hand to the woman as Ash introduced him.

"This here is Doctor Bobby Singer, he's the one who paid for the voyage." 

"I'm Captain Ellen Harvelle. Been sailing around this galaxy for longer than I care to remember. So, you're the fool who paid for us to go on some goose chase to a planet of legend?" 

"You know, I started out as skeptical as you, but it ain't legend, ma'am. See, this boy standing next to me has a treasure-"

"Doctor. Perhaps we can continue this conversation away from the deck."

Dean glanced around, watching creatures mill about. Some of them were watching the group with interest and suspicion, but most were just moving about quickly, finishing their tasks. One in particular was watching the group, and Dean, with interest. A man, just about as tall as Dean, was staring right at him unblinkingly. He had dark hair that looked as ruffled as if he had just gotten out of bed, and his eyes were a brilliant blue, piercing Dean through. The light from the spaceport fluttered about him, giving him an almost ethereal glow. Dean blinked, confused as to why the man was just staring at him, not moving or looking away. Just as he got up the nerve to go over and say something, he felt Bobby's hand grip his arm. Immediately his attention was returned to the conversation happening in front of him. Sam was looking at him strangely, obviously having noticed Dean's staring contest with the other man. 

"-over to my stateroom, it's private and we can chat there," Ellen was saying, gesturing for them to all move. The trio followed her in silence, Ash bringing up the rear and calling orders to crew members all the while. They ascended a short staircase to her stateroom, and Ellen bolted the door after everyone had come in. 

"Okay, Doctor. This crew you hired? I don't trust them farther than I can throw them. So, for you to loudly proclaim you have a treasure map on the deck isn't a very smart idea, understand?" Ellen looked murderous in the light coming through the stained-glass windows of her stateroom. Dean instinctively wanted to back away from her, and was totally willing to let Bobby take the full force of her anger. Sam seemed to have the same idea, wisely staying quiet and looking at the floor. 

"Understand? Listen, ma'am, I vetted each and every one of this crew and they all checked out. So don't tell me that they ain't -"

Ellen cut him off with a glare before turning to face Dean. His eyes widened and he gulped, hands tightening where he had them clasped behind his back. He straightened up, pushing his shoulders back and raising his chin to look her directly in the eye. Next to him, Sam imitated his posture. Ellen looked between both of them with an assessing eye, stroking one of her fingers along the globe on her desk.

"I don't believe we've been introduced. As you know, my name is Ellen Harvelle, and you will only address me as 'Captain' or 'ma'am'." Ellen turned away, moving to sit in her chair behind the desk. The desk itself was littered with papers, maps, and a chest that was overflowing with writing utensils of all kinds. Quills were prevalent, and there was an inkwell in the shape of a beer mug near the chest. Dean watched as she sat down, still an imposing figure even while reclining in the chair. Bobby cleared his throat over to the side, and Ellen granted him half a glance before turning back to the map she was studying, saying, "Yes, Doctor Singer?" in such a heavily put-upon tone that Dean could feel the aggravation rolling off of her in waves. 

"Where do you want us, ma'am?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, right, I'd almost forgotten. Doctor, you'll be on the helm with myself, Mr. Arrow, and Mr. Samandriel, handling the basic navigation of the voyage. I'm sure you can at least do that. You, there - what's your name again?" She pointed at Sam, who immediately jerked around from where he had been gazing at the chest and saluted. 

"My name is Sam Winchester, ma'am," he said shakily. She gave him a quick once-over and clapped her hands together sharply. 

"Brilliant. You'll be in the galley, working under our cook, Mr. Milton. And you are?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester," he said, glancing over at Bobby's form leaning against the windowsill. Bobby stepped forward and interjected, "Dean here is the boy who has the treasure map."

"Oh?" Ellen said, looking at Dean with no more friendliness than she had before. She tapped her fingers along the underside of the desk for a moment, and a hidden compartment shot out of the side. Inside rested a rifle, a closed, ornate locket, and a few pieces of paper which seemed to be correspondence between her and another. Rising from the chair, she walked around the table and stuck out her hand to Dean. "The map, then, if you don't mind."

Dean dug into his pocket and fished out the map, looking at her distrustfully. "Why?"

Ellen rolled her eyes, as if the very question pained her. "I would be much more comfortable if this particular item was out of reach of all but a few people, but if you want to carry it around the deck where simply anyone can grab it, be my guest." 

Dean looked at the orb in his hands, before swallowing and tossing it into Ellen's outstretched hand. She brought it close to her face, eyes lighting up as she inspected it. It gleamed in the golden light from the window, looking mysterious and magical. Dean watched warily and Ellen rotated it in her palm, weighing it and flicking an imaginary piece of lint away from the surface. She dropped it into the compartment open on the side of her desk and shut it gently, making sure that the compartment was hidden and unaccessible.

"No one but myself and Mr. Miles know the pass code, and I would like to keep it that way. Now, as I was saying, Mr. Winchester, you will assist Mr. Novak in the engine room. He keeps the ship afloat and running with the power sources, and I expect nothing but your top behavior. No complaints and no questions. Both of you," she added, casting a quelling look on Sam, who had opened his mouth with a frustrated look on his face.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, glaring at where his map was hidden away in the desk. 

"I must not have heard you, Mr. Winchester. Care to repeat that?"

Dean straightened up, being careful not to let his frustration and annoyance show. "Yes ma'am."

"Good," Ellen said, leaning back on her desk. She turned slightly to face Ash, making a shooing gesture at him with her hand. "Now. Mr. Miles, if you would be so kind as to escort these two greens to their new stations? Doctor, you'll be remaining here with me, thank you." 

Ash saluted her with a, "Yes'm," and gestured for the boys to follow him out of the stateroom.

"Oh, and Mr.'s Winchester?" Ellen called. "Your things will be moved to the forecastle along with the rest of the crew members', and you will find them laid out next to your hammocks when you retire tonight." With a glance back at Bobby, Dean and Sam descended the stairs, shutting the door on him and Ellen. 

"This is ridiculous," Sam muttered, walking beside Dean. "I'm doing the same damn thing I would be doing at home: busing tables. What a joke."

"Hey at least you know what you're doing, bitch. I'm working in a damn engine room, what the hell does that even mean? I don't got a clue in hell how these ships work. This chick shunted me over to the side, and I'm the only one who can -"

Ash stopped suddenly in front of them and both boys ran into his hard back, Dean cutting off his tirade with a _oof_.

"Okay, boys, I know you're new here and all, but watch your mouths. Without Captain Harvelle I wouldn't even be alive right now. So bad-mouth her again in my presence and I won't be too happy. Capische?" Ash grunted, folding his arms and glaring at Dean and Sam. Both of them nodded their assent, Sam muttering a, "Sorry," under his breath.

"Good man. Now," Ash said, clapping his hands together with a grinding sound. "Galley-ho!" He chuckled and Dean rolled his eyes, sharing an unamused look with Sam. They trekked across the deck to another set of stairs, which they climbed down into a dank cellar-type area. Ingredients littered the walls, hanging suspended from hooks and ropes. There were tables set up along the walls, benches shoved under them to make a rough imitation of a walkway. From under the archway at the end of the room came a humming sound, the entrance covered up with a flimsy curtain. Ash went over and pulled it aside, stepping under the archway and holding the curtain open from Sam and Dean. Dean stepped through, where a small room was illuminated by a fire burning under a large cauldron. Bustling around the cauldron was a dark figure flitting jerkily from side to side; sounds of cutting could be heard, quickly followed by splashes as the figure tossed shadows into the cauldron. Sam stepped through as well, bumping into Dean's back and shoving him aside, eyeing the figure with distaste. 

Ash followed through last, clearing his throat. "Mr. Milton."

The humming cut off quickly as the figure spun around to face the trio, rubbing his hands on his apron. The stranger flicked a switch and light flooded the small area; Dean blinked at the sudden return of light given off by a single bulb hanging from a chain fastened to the ceiling. 

"Ash! Great to see you, it's been an age. And who are these esteemed guests you brought down for me to meet?" The man, short and thin with golden-brown hair, moved forward and extended his hand to Dean and Sam. He was roughly Dean's age, and his honey-colored eyes gleamed with amusement as he winked at Sam. The light glinted off of the metal workings on his arm, and Dean instinctively recoiled, Sam doing the same. Baldr's words echoed in his head. _Beware the cyborg._ The stranger smiled good-naturedly, pulling his hand back and ignoring the moment of awkwardness. "Oh, don't be like that. It's just some hardware, nothing to be afraid of. Damned helpful, too, sometimes." The stranger switched his hand to a knife and started cutting up a bunch of carrots, tossing them over his shoulder into the pot. "Call me Gabriel, boys, this 'Milton' stuff is much too formal for my taste. I'm still young." 

Steam rose from the pot and Gabriel rotated his hand again, grabbing a nearby wooden ladle and spooning the stew inside into two small bowls. Sauntering over to Dean and Sam, he nabbed two spoons off the side table and stuck them into the soup, handing them to the boys. "Try it. Old family recipe. Satisfies everyone."

Dean dipped the spoon in and slurped up the soup. It was tangy and a sharp taste of onions overpowered everything. Next to him, Sam made a surprised sound, and Dean glanced over in time to see his spoon turn into a straw and suck up all of his soup. Resting in the bottom of the bowl was a strange pink blob, purring in contentment. Gabriel glared at it with his hands on his hips, snapping, "Morph!"

The pink blob jumped, and then floated away to hide behind the brim of the bowl, peeking over the edge. Gabriel eyed it sternly, snapping his fingers at it. Immediately the blob floated over to him, chirping in what sounded like an apologetic tone. Expression softening, Gabriel ran his fingers along what Dean assumed was his back, eventually cracking a smile.

"Sorry about that," he said, looking up at Sam. Sam, for his own part, looked more confused than annoyed, peering curiously at the blob resting between Gabriel's fingers. It chirped at Sam, then hovered in front of his face. A moment later, an inch-tall version of Sam was cocking its head at him, imitating his every move.

"What is it?" Sam asked, glancing at Gabriel. The blob moved closer to his face, and Dean watched as it moved to the top of his head and started rolling around the cloud of hair there. Gabriel sniggered, watching with amusement and Sam tried not to flinch.

"It's a Morph. Kinda like a shapeshifter. I rescued him a couple years back on Betelgeuse before it imploded, and I haven't been able to get rid of him. He's grown on me, though," Gabriel explained, pulling Morph back and nuzzling him against his cheek. "He's kinda badass for a small little pink blob of jelly, y'know."

Morph chirruped, kissing Gabriel's cheek and fluttering about everyone's heads. Dean looked up in amazement, reaching a hand up to touch the blob. It evaded his outstretched fingers, slowly fluttering back to Gabriel's shoulder, where it sat in contentment. 

Ash looked on, grinning. Dean made eye contact with him over Sam's shoulder and he winked, pulling his hand out of his pocket. Clamping it heavily down on Sam's shoulder, he shoved Sam forward, Sam stumbling over his gangly legs.

"Milton, this here is Sam Winchester. Sam's gonna be your assistant for the voyage. We need a new cabin boy now that Mercury bailed on us."

Gabriel froze, fingers no longing stroking Morph. Dean noticed that his eyes had become shuttered, not giving away any emotion. "Begging your pardon, sir, but - what?"

"Sam Winchester. Your new cabin boy. You were just complaining the other day that this crew was too much for one man to feed, so the Captain thought to uh - alleviate your struggles." Ash shoved Sam forward, who shrugged and rubbed his hand over his neck.

Gabriel sputtered, throwing his hands up and making half-finished gestures toward Sam. Sam muttered a low, "Listen, I don't wanna do this either, but -" before he was cut off by Ash's booming voice.

"Captain's orders. And like 'em or not, see to it that you follow them." Rising, Ash turned to go, calling for Dean to follow him over his shoulder. Dean jogged to his side and they scaled the staircase to the deck, leaving Sam behind with Gabriel and some weird-ass Morph whatever-the-hell.

~~

Sam watched wistfully as Dean and Ash left to go to the engine room. Dean cast a backwards glance over his shoulder and gave a tiny wave. Sam grimaced at him in return. A series of crashes came from behind him and he jumped, spinning around. Pots and pans were strewn across the floor of the galley, and Gabriel was squatting in the middle of the mess, swearing under his breath. Sam hurried over to him and began picking stuff up and placing it on the counter. Gabriel grumbled some thanks and stood up, tossing the items into the full sink. They landed with splashes, water slopping over the edge of the sink and landing on the floor. 

Sam thought about Mary's reaction to Gabriel's haphazard treatment of the kitchen materials and chuckled out loud. Gabriel turned to face him with a confused look on his face.

"What are you laughing at?"

"My mom owns an inn, a bed-n-breakfast, really, and she would have a heart attack if she saw how you managed your kitchen."

Gabriel looked affronted. "Hey, this space is as good as any -"

Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, no, it's not a bad thing, I, uh, I actually wish my mom wasn't so uptight about her kitchen. It's a germophobe's wet dream in there."

Gabriel nodded, still looking a bit offended. He moved over to the counter and grabbed an extra apron, tossing it at Sam. Sam caught it in midair; it was made out of some rough material, burlap, probably, and smelled like a toilet. He winced, then steeled himself and tied it around his neck. Flattening out the front, he glanced over at Gabriel, who was absorbed in washing and cutting more vegetables. Sam grabbed a wet towel and began wiping down the wooden tables. 

"Listen, kid -"

Sam bristled. "I'm not a kid."

"Whatever." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we're not gonna get out of this, so may as well start out on a good foot. The names Gabriel." He extended his hand to Sam.

Sam eyed the hand mistrustfully, still thinking about what that strange man with the chest had said. Eventually he reached forward, gripping Gabriel's hand tightly and shaking it. "Sam."

Gabriel nodded and turned, whistling to Morph and pointing to a tall stack of plates. Morph fluttered up there and transformed into a hand, grabbing a plate and tossing it over to Gabriel. Snatching it out of the air, Gabriel pulled down a bushel of purps and began cutting it up, squeezing the extra juice into a bottle sitting underneath the wooden cabinet. His hand steadily became more purple, dyed by the juice of the fruit. The juice ran down his muscular forearm and dripped onto the floor, where a large purple stain already lay. 

Sam watched with interest, half-cocked plan forming in his mind. "God, cutting purps is hell. I have a permanent purple stain under my fingernails during the summer, when they're ripe."

"You only cut purps in summertime?" Gabriel snorted. "Must be the celestial air up here, but they stay ripe year-round, kiddo."

"Not a kid. Maybe it is the air. Back at my mom's inn - it's called The Lawrence, over on Montressor - they're only ripe during the hot months. You ever been to Montressor?" Gabriel shook his head, carefully measuring out a spoonful of some spice into the cauldron. "Shame. It's really nice down there, bright all the time. Lots of friendly guests come through our inn. They don't stay for long. That's okay, though, they always have great stories." Mind catching on to an idea, he leaned over toward where Gabriel rested against the counter. "Actually, this one guy came in a couple days before we left. Seemed all torn-up, was looking for a buddy of his. Some old cyborg, he said, who owed him money or something. Didn't say much other than that." Sam rubbed his hand along his forehead. "What did Dean say his name was... Baldr, I think. Killian Baldr, or something like that."

Gabriel glanced at Sam, brow furrowed. "Baldr? Doesn't sound familiar. And I have a good memory with names. Shoulda asked some more cyborgs out in the port, I know a whole crew that travel to Montressor every couple months. I could have talked to 'em for you."

A shrill whistle came from the deck, startling Sam. He glanced toward the archway, hearing the faint sound of Ash calling out orders to the crewmen. Sam longingly stared at the staircase and wished he could see the launch. The boat rocked sharply and Sam stumbled, catching himself on a counter. Gabriel chuckled, moving toward Sam. "Go on, kid, I can tell you're dying of curiosity. Go watch the launch, it'll probably be your only chance. It's a sight to see."

Sam looked at Gabriel, hope in his eyes. "Seriously? I mean, I don't have to, I know I'm supposed to be down here helping out with the kitchen stuff, but I mean if you don't -"

"Sam." Gabriel cut him off. "You babble so much, I swear. Get up there and watch the launch. Trust me, there'll be enough to do after dinner tonight to more than make up for this."

Sam cast him a grateful look, throwing aside the curtain and hauling up the stairs in time to see the ship cast off. He didn't feel the gaze of Gabriel resting on his back, eyes sharp and evaluating.

~~

"Sam's gonna be okay with that guy, right?" Dean asked, leaning closer to Ash to be heard over the shouts of the crew. They were tossing boxes up to the deck from the port, stacking them port-side and making sure to keep them tied down. Crewmembers scurried all over the place, hurrying up to the mainmast and setting the sails right for casting off. Dean recognized some of the crew from earlier, when he had been glancing around the deck. The strange black-haired man was nowhere to be seen, although the large one that had shoved Dean was currently carrying the last three boxes up the gangplank, shoving them on top of the final stack. A creature with no legs, just some sort of snake-like body was currently scaling the mainmast to the crow's nest, carrying a black telescope in one of its four hands. 

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Ash was calling back to Dean, stooping to get closer to his mouth. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Is that guy okay? For Sam to be with, I mean."

"Who, Gabriel?" Ash chuckled, nudging Dean in the shoulder. "He's a harmless cyborg, trust me. Bit of a prankster sometimes, but he pulls his own. Sam'll be fine."

Dean heaved a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He'd promised Mom that he would look after Sam, and he wasn't gonna break it on the first day. Ash's words were reassuring, and other than the kinda creepy fact that the guy was a cyborg, he seemed honest enough. Didn't give off any evil, stay-away impressions, at least, and that was good enough for Dean. 

They came to a ladder and Ash stopped, gesturing for Dean to go first. Dean climbed down into what looked like a boiler room, open at one end and blisteringly hot. He pulled his shirt away from his skin, feeling the sweat already building up. The beating sun had been bad enough; anyone who'd choose to work here must be insane. 

Ash led the way out of the steaming room into a narrow hallway lined with pipes, buckets, and wires. A couple of turns later and they stood in front of a door, bolted shut and almost covered by the overflowing amount of boxes. "Ash, what's even in these? I've seen them all around the ship."

Ash shrugged. "Extra equipment, but a lot of it is cargo. We're not some special liner, you know; we have stuff to deliver too." With a flourish he threw open the door, holding it open as Dean walked through it into a tiny room. 

The room was almost pitch black and smelled musty, as if it hadn't been cleaned in quite some time. Which, granted, it might not have been. The only light came from a blinking table in the corner adorned with buttons of all shapes and sizes. Against the far wall sat a huge gauge, spanning from the floor almost to the ceiling with special pockmarks along the side, indicating energy. 

A scuffling sound came from somewhere near the only actual table in the room, followed by a muffled grunt. The room lit up with a punch of a button, and sitting at the table with a mug in his hand was the strange black-haired man from before. 

"Dean, this is Castiel Novak, our engineering specialist. Anything on this ship goes screwy he's the one who'll know. Novak, this is Dean Winchester, he needed a place to work and I figured this would be most accommodating," Ash explained, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down. Castiel watched him, taking a long sip from his mug. Dean walked over to the table and sat down as well. He stuck a hand out across the table, putting it out for Castiel to shake. "Nice to meet you."

Castiel let go of his mug warily, stretching out his hand and grabbing Dean's giving it a small shake. "Castiel." 

Their eyes met, and Dean was startled by the icy blue clearness of Castiel's gaze. Castiel let go almost immediately, returning his gaze to his mug and the sheet of paper spread out in front of him. Dean tapped his fingers on the table, looking around the room and pressing his lips together. 

An awkward silence ensued; the beeping of a button from the table in the corner broke it. Castiel rose and strode over to it, pressing buttons and turning knobs in quick succession. Dean looked on, impressed with his speed. The button remained glowing but Castiel had silenced it by doing... whatever he had done. Dean wasn't too good with technical terms.

Castiel glanced over at Ash, who had stood up when the button had begun beeping. He pushed in his chair and turned to Dean. "Kinda works like a pager. Heard of 'em?" Dean nodded. "Awesome. So, that button beeps when someone - in this case, me - is needed up top."

"Mr. Miles, you should probably go up and direct the crew, I'm sure Ellen is getting worried. And we're scheduled to launch any moment now."

Ash winked at Dean, turning to go. "Castiel, I've told you a hundred times. Call me Ash, Mr. Miles is so formal." Castiel inclined his head slightly, not truly answering his request. The exchange sounded familiar, like it was a regular conversation topic between the two men. Ash ascended the steps with a last wave at Dean, who returned it half-heartedly. Castiel remained silent after Ash had left, returning to the table so quietly that Dean hadn't even heard him come over. He was still poring over that sheet, running his hands through his hair and tapping his fingers agitatedly on the table. In this light his hair looked pitch black, giving his eyes an eerie quality.

Dean decided to break the silence this time, struggling to find the right words. "So, ship's engineer, huh? What exactly do you do?"

Castiel glanced up in surprise, almost as if he hadn't expected Dean to still be there. His gaze flicked between somewhere slightly to the right of Dean and the paper spread across the table. His voice was quiet when he responded.

"Well, uh. Usually I just run diagnostics down here, making sure everything is smooth and right, and then if it's not, I tell the right person." Castiel coughed, glancing toward the table where the button was beeping incessantly. Dean nodded slightly, following his gaze to the table.

"So, that table is?" 

"The control pad. Everything gets routed through the wires down here to that table, and the according buttons light up in sequence," Castiel explained. "If something's wrong, I try and fix it down here before worrying anyone."

"And that?" Dean asked, pointing to the large gauge resting along the back wall. The level had risen to further than halfway, and was almost two-thirds of the way to the top. 

"Energy meter, lets me monitor how much the ship is using and how full-throttle the engines are at any particular time. For the initial cast off, the level has to be at the top. Then, at the go ahead from Captain Harvelle, I pull the lever and we essentially ride an energy wave out of the port. See, the differences between celestial energy and this type of energy are so negligent that the frequencies -" Castiel cut himself off suddenly, looking straight at Dean for the third time that morning. "Sorry, I must be boring you."

Dean shook his head and leaned forward, interested. The gauge was still steadily rising, almost to the 75% mark. Castiel was standing near a small pull-down lever, obviously prepared for whenever the Captain gave the word to go. 

"No, man, it's actually really interesting. Go on," Dean said.

Castiel's eyes widened; obviously no one had ever shown interest in his line of work before and he was confused as to why Dean suddenly did. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he opened his mouth, getting cut off by Ellen's voice coming from a small metal stand situated near the table. Her voice came through very tinny, although it was still understandable. She asked Castiel if the ship was ready to set off and he responded with the negative, eyes glued to the gauge, which was close to being full. Dean leaned back in his chairs, eyes focusing on the metal box Castiel was talking to. It was carved out of some cheap metal, probably tin, and Castiel was constantly fiddling with the dials on the side. Obviously it was some sort of radio, but it was so outdated that it physically pained Dean to even look it. Eventually Castiel relayed the affirmative to Ellen, hand gripping the lever tightly. The gauge held steady at 100 percent full, and the command came through the line. 

"Brace yourself, Dean." Castiel pulled the lever down and held it for a few moments, watching as the gauge reading plummeted from 100 to about 40. There was a sudden surge, and Dean felt gravity lessen for a second. He'd risen up a few feet above the ground when a muffled call came from the deck; a strange glow shuddered through the floor and Dean felt his feet return to solid ground. The ship lunged forward immediately after that, propelling itself out of the spaceport. Dean stumbled backward from the force of the thrust, gripping the edge of the table to hold himself upright. Castiel looked over at him with amusement and let go of the lever, the gauge holding at 40 percent. 

Dean shuffled back to the table, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously. Castiel tilted his head. 

"Dean, there's no need to be embarrased. Most people couldn't even remain upright if it was their first time on a launch," Castiel explained, glancing over at Dean. Dean nodded in response and waited as Castiel came back to the table, pulling out the chair and sitting down. 

"Actually, Castiel - is it okay if I call you Cas?" Castiel nodded. "Great. Anyway. Why were you staring at me earlier? When I'd just gotten on the deck?"

Castiel averted his eyes then, face shutting down and becoming a blank slate. Dean tried to read his body language, but to no avail. Castiel shrugged, hand playing with a hem along his billowing trousers. "No reason."

"Tell me."

"Normally, humans don't really come on long voyages like this unless they're important. Apart from myself, Gabriel and the Captain were the only other humans on board. Until, of course, you, your brother, and that older gentleman showed up."

Rising from the table, he tilted his head toward the doorway. "There's nothing to be done down here until the third bell ring, so you can go and explore the ship if you'd like. Sitting down here in the dark isn't all that enjoyable."

"So why do you do it?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked away, shrugging. "My people skills are nothing to brag about. I simply find it easier to remain down here with the machinery. It's what I understand, I suppose."

Dean stood up from the table, chair creaking along the floorboards. He tugged Castiel away from the buttons sitting in the corner of the room by the sleeve of his tan coat. "I'll only go explore if you come with me, Cas."

Castiel glanced up at Dean through his fringe, small smile gracing his face. He swayed in place slightly, looking longingly at the blinking technical equipment. Turning his face back to Dean, he nodded and grinned outright. "Okay."


	4. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean explore the ship while Sam gets put to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im trying to update as often as i can, so i hope y'all are enjoying the story!!

CHAPTER THREE

Sam wandered along the edge of the deck, holding his arms out for balance. Crew members were milling about, some heading back to the forecastle for a few hours of rest before their watch. There wasn't much to do on deck yet, but Ash was still calling orders from his perch atop the helm. Bobby and Ellen were up there as well, standing hunched over some navigational equipment and arguing loudly. Bobby was making elaborate gestures just as often as Ellen was, both of them in each other's face. Sam snorted. I can see that coming from a mile away.

A hand gripped the back of his jacket and another gripped his arm, pushing him forward just enough for his heart to stop, looking down at the blackness of space. He was pulled back roughly, stumbling off the edge of the boat and landing heavily on the deck.

"Saved your life." Dean was standing there with a cocky grin on his face, arms crossed. Sam lunged at him with a cry and punched him on the arm.

"You asshole! You gave me a freaking heart attack!" Sam yelled, throwing punches left and right. Dean blocked them all with a laugh, grabbing Sam's arms and twisting them behind his back.

"Good try, Sammy. Not good enough to win though."

Sam twisted around in his grip, shooting a kick out at his legs that caused Dean to buckle and fall to his knees on the deck, arms locked painfully in Sam's grip. He tapped two fingers along Sam's arm, rolling his eyes with a huff.

"All right, all right. Get off me, Sasquatch."

Sam backed away and allowed Dean to get to his feet. As he was backing away, he noticed that they weren't alone; there was a dark figure in the corner of his vision, watching silently. Sam tensed up, expecting Dean to notice and say something. Instead, he watched as Dean turned to the figure and said, "You didn't see that." Sam cocked his head, confused. Dean gestured for the stranger to come closer, and as he walked into Sam's line of vision, Sam recognized him as the man Dean had had the staring contest with earlier. He waved awkwardly, sticking out a hand for him to shake.

"Hey, I'm Sam."

"Castiel." Castiel shook Sam's hand gently, before pulling away and moving to stand by Dean's side. There was less than an inch of space between them, until Dean coughed slightly and Castiel blushed, taking a small step away. Dean stuck his hands in the pocket of his trousers and flicked his chin in Castiel's direction. 

"Cas's the engineer, makes sure everything is running smoothly and there aren't any fuck-ups. He's the one who launched the ship."

Castiel looked down, cheeks flushing, and mumbled a small response that sounded like, "It was nothing." His fringe covered his face, effectively hiding it from the boys. Sam gaped at him.

"You started the launch?"

Castiel looked back up at Sam's question. "Well, uh - I suppose so yes. It wasn't much effort from me personally, just a couple timing gauges and electromagnetic frequency charges needing to be reset, not to mention the level of toxins in the atmosphere that needed to be effectively neutralized using ionized particles -" He cut himself off, looking shifty. "My apologies, I tend to run off at the mouth sometimes." 

Sam shook his head, interested in the speech. "No, man, that is awesome. You need to describe those to me in detail sometime. I'm guessing it's mostly to do with the charged nucleus and the tesla -"

"Okay, geeks, enough techno babble," Dean said, cutting in with his usual lack of finesse. He slung an arm around Castiel's shoulder and shook him gently. "Point is, Cas here is awesome, and I got the better job." 

Sam rolled his eyes and Castiel stood there, uncomfortable under Dean's grip. He eventually leaned forward, locking eyes with Sam while still remaining near Dean. Sam tucked that little nugget of information into the overflowing folder of blackmail material in the back of his mind. Rhonda Hurley, Cassie, Benny, crashing the surfer and breaking an arm... the list went on and on. 

Sam moved backward, pulling himself up by the shrouds until he could lean into the rigging, suspended above the abyss below.

"Whom do you work under, Sam?" Castiel asked, intrigued.

"The cook. Gabriel," Sam replied.

Immediately after he answered, Castiel's face shuttered, no hint of emotion breaking through the tempered steel. His eyes were flat and his tone even when he told Sam that Gabriel would be a wonderful person to work for. Sam cocked his head, wondering at Castiel's strange tone. Castiel shook his head minutely, looking straight into Sam's eyes. 

Dean cut into their silent conversation with a little wave. "Still here, guys."

Sam blinked and glanced over at Dean, standing there with a mildly annoyed expression on his face. Sam apologized.

"So, you hard at work yet?" Dean asked, annoyance melting away.

Sam shook his head. "Nah, Gabriel said I could come up and watch the launch before getting started."

"Lucky you."

"Well, what about you? Don't you have something to be doing?"

Dean smiled, nudging Castiel with his elbow. "Nah, me and Cas are exploring. There isn't anything to do back down in the room, or so he says. So here we are."

"Where've you gone?"

Castiel answered this time, voice relaxed while his face still looked a little tight. "Nowhere, yet. Dean saw you walking along the edge and decided to pull a prank on you."

Sam glared at Dean. "Yeah, I gathered that."

Footsteps sounded behind Sam, and he turned, seeing Gabriel as he walked over to them. Next to Dean Castiel stiffened almost imperceptibly, chin coming up and eyes becoming hooded. His hands were clasped behind his back and he didn't turn or look away. Dean tapped him, eyes concerned, and asked what the matter was. Cas leaned in close and whispered something that Sam didn't catch, but Dean immediately called out a goodbye and steered Castiel away, directing him up the stairs to the helm.

Sam watched them go as Gabriel reached him, coming to stand in front of where he was with an unconcerned but steely glint in his eyes. 

"Thought I told you that you could watch the launch, not have tea time with your brother." 

Sam bristled; the aggrieved tone in Gabriel's voice had put him on edge, and his voice was sharp when he replied.

"Sorry, didn't know you needed me right after the launch, which, by the way, happened just a couple minutes ago," Sam retorted, crossing his arms. 

Gabriel just smirked. "Oh don't worry, I've got plenty of ways for you to show how sorry you are. Here's one." A mop and bucket were tossed through the air, and Sam struggled to catch them and hold on to the rigging, tangling one hand into the ropes and grabbing the mop and bucket with the other before they could fall off of the boat. Gabriel chuckled, watching Sam as he tried to juggle the objects. 

"Deck needs to be cleaned, and no one else wants to do it. So..." Gabriel trailed off, raising an eyebrow at the mop and bucket in Sam's hand. "Hop to it." He turned and stomped back down to the galley, Morph following close behind.

Sam leaned against the rigging and groaned, mop and bucket clattering to the deck.

\--

"What's down this hallway?" Dean asked, turning a corner and spying a door at the end. Castiel hesitated, running his hands along a crack in the wall. All the walls were a stained brown, making the ship's inner workings seem dark and dingy. Which, to be fair, they probably were. Dean turned around to look at Castiel, who was giving the wall the same deep stare that he usually bestowed on Dean. "Hey, Castiel, over here. Little bit more interesting than a wall, don't you think?" Castiel blinked slowly and turned to look at Dean. His cheeks flushed and he cast his gaze downward. His hair looked even darker with the lack of light.

"Sorry, what?" Castiel asked, back ramrod straight. 

"Man, you need to lighten up a little. Kick back, relax, stop being all serious. Have some fun."

Castiel's gaze flicked to meet Dean's through his fringe. "How?" 

"How? I'll show you how. First, we find out what's at the end of this hallway. Then... well, we'll figure that out later, okay?" Dean grabbed Castiel's arm and tugged him toward the door; the light changed as they advanced down the hallway and they had to descend some steps to reach the end. There was a soft light coming from underneath the metal door, and Dean turned the knob to discover that it was unlocked. Pushing it open gently, he peeked inside and saw no one. He gestured for Castiel to come on and then stepped inside, mouth dropping open at what he saw. 

Inside was a small boat hanging suspended from the rafters. It was directly over a hatch in the bottom of the boat, a wooden slat that opened, somehow. Dean gaped at the boat, moving toward it. He ran his hand along the side, smooth and stained. Castiel hung back, remaining near the door while Dean explored the small room. Every part of the room was connected by narrow pathways; one trip and one might tumble to the wooden hull about 20 feet below. He hopped across one to reach the lever he had spotted and pulled it. The hatch opened up, letting in light and displaying the blinking stars of space. Dean turned toward Castiel with admiration drawn on his face.

"This? This is your fun." He jumped back across the gap and rejoined Castiel by the door; Castiel seemed skittish and nervous, eyes darting about. 

"Dean, we can't take the longboat out, Captain Harvelle will skin us alive," Castiel said, eyes worried. 

"Nah. She'll be cool with it... maybe."

"I can't even drive this thing, and you've never been on a boat before so obviously you can't drive this -"

"Who says I can't?" Dean smirked, winking at Castiel. He pulled Castiel's hand and dragged him over to where the ship hung, moving down slowly as the hatch opened. Dean pushed Castiel up over the edge, climbing in after him. He grabbed the ropes and untied them, tossing them onto the wooden platform. The ship moved slowly, falling through the hatch and remaining suspended in the void of space. Dean pressed a few buttons and the ship jolted. Castiel grabbed onto the edge, knuckles white. 

"Scared, Cas?"

"I don't like sailing in boats this small. Especially with inexperienced drivers," Castiel muttered through tightly clenched teeth. 

"Aw, lighten up. I'm not that bad."

Dean thrust the throttle forward and the ship jumped, speeding ahead. It raced through the air, cutting cleanly through the celestial waves. Dean tucked the sail in and did a barrel roll upward, spiraling high above the ship. The ship was a speck under them and Dean leveled out the boat, letting out a whoop. Castiel was still white-knuckled on the edge, lips pressed together and eyes staring resolutely ahead. Dean glanced over at him, rolling his eyes. Holding onto the throttle with one hand, he reached over and tugged Castiel back from the edge. 

"Dude. Enjoy it." Castiel nodded sharply at Dean's command and breathed, tension rolling off his body in waves. He turned in his seat to watch the stars whizzing by, peering over at a long speck of light far off in the distance. Up ahead was the meteor belt, and Dean gunned the boat. It sped toward the heaping chunks of rock, skipping slightly on the pockets in the air. Castiel have a sharp cry as Dean entered the belt, gripping his arm tightly and leaning back. 

Dean maneuvered the skiff through the belt, dodging rocks here and there. There was one close call where the tail end almost clipped the edge of a rock and Castiel jerked, fingers tightening on Dean's forearm. Dean laughed, exhilaration flooding through his veins. After a few more ducks and dodges they were out, sailing gently through the open area. Castiel let go of Dean's arm, sitting stiffly once more. Dean kicked his leg. 

"Smile, man, you're missing all the fun."

Castiel glared at him, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. Dean grinned at him, mischievous look on his face. He tilted the throttle forward and the ship sped up, heading toward that speck of light they had both seen earlier. Dean knew it was a comet, and he wanted to see the look on Castiel's face when they pulled up by it. It grew closer and it was easy to make out the blue stream coming off of it. The comet moved in what seemed like slow motion, traveling at its own pace. They grew closer and the light grew, illuminating Dean and Castiel's faces. 

Castiel's eyes were wide with shock and awe, and the light made his blue eyes seem even more electric. Finally, Castiel seemed to be enjoying himself. Dean steered the boat closer and tucked the sail in, diving nose-first into the tail of the comet. The stardust rippled through their clothes and the boat rode the waves coming off of it. Dean twisted the throttle and the boat twisted; coming to a sideways stop he and Castiel sat there, reveling in the feel of the energy from the comet moving through their bodies. Castiel threw his head back and laughed, truly laughed, a deep sound that came from his chest. There was a completely euphoric look on his face, and his shoulders were the loosest Dean's ever seen them. 

Castiel looked at Dean, then, stardust coating his lips and hair. Dean felt a strange curl in his gut, and his eyes drifted down to Castiel's lips, stretched wide with his grin. It would be so easy, so simple, just to tilt his head and close those few feet between them. 

Castiel moved then, lips forming sounds Dean couldn't hear, and the spell was broken. Dean shook his head and brushed the stardust out of his hair in a vain attempt to make it stop shimmering. Castiel laughed and reached over, hands running through Dean's hair in an attempt to help. The boat tipped with Castiel's weight, and Castiel fell against Dean's chest as his balance was shifted. 

Dean could feel the warmth of Castiel's body even through his clothes, but he coughed awkwardly and helped Castiel sit up. There was still a small speck of stardust above Castiel's lip, and Dean wrestled with the urge to reach out and wipe it away. 

"You have a little something... there." He pointed and Castiel wiped it off, not meeting Dean's eyes. What had grown to become a comfortable moment was reverted into an awkward silence, and Dean turned the skiff away to head toward the Chevrolet. By the time they had gotten back to the boat, the awkward moment had been forgotten, and Dean and Castiel were sitting and laughing with each other. 

They pulled into the hatch and Dean steered the skiff up, instructing Castiel to grab a rope and help haul her up. They argued playfully for a minute, Dean pulling hard onto the rope and tilting the boat, causing him to fall against Castiel's back, almost knocking the other man over. Castiel chuckled and shoved him back, pulling up on his own rope. With the ropes tied off and secure, they sat back, Dean sprawled along one bench and Castiel sitting upright against the opposite edge. 

"So, what made you get into sailing?" Dean asked, playing with a chipping piece of paint from the longboat. He watched blearily as the ropes swung above his head, hypnotized. Castiel's gravelly voice was calming, and Dean felt as though he was floating.

"Back in school, I wasn't really popular. Mainly because I liked playing with weird gadgets and electrical items, I'm not sure. None of the other kids really liked me, and I didn't really integrate into any groups. I was a quiet kid; my parents were very strict. They raised me and my siblings using an old religious piece called the Bible. It was popular around the second millennia. Anyway," Cas paused, shifting in his seat. His leg touched Dean's almost imperceptibly. 

"I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I didn't really want something involving people to be my job, so I talked with Mr. C-" He cut off and Dean noticed a muscle twitching in his jaw. "His name's not important. He told me that being a ship engineer would satisfy me and I believed him. Hasn't disappointed me so far."

"Interesting. How long have you been a sailor?"

"Officially? 2 years, give or take. But, for all his faults, my father did make it a point to take us all out on the boat once a month, teach us some 'vital skills', as he said." Castiel trailed off, eyes glazed. "I've been sailing since I was about three years old."

Dean whistled. "Shit, that's a long time."

Castiel nodded, fingers splayed across the edge of the boat. He glanced up at Dean, eyes harder than usual. "I wouldn't trade a second of it. Not one moment of it."

Dean held his hands up defensively. "Dude, not attacking you here. I think it's cool, you having a dad like that. I'd have given anything to be taken out that often."

Castiel tilted his head. Dean looked down at the floor of the boat with a small frown on his face. He scratched the back of his neck and a small laugh escaped his lips; it sounded like it was choked out. Nodding, he turned back to Castiel.

"Yeah, I'd've loved that."

Castiel moved, then, shifting until he was sitting next to Dean along the back of the boat. Dean sat up, reclining back as well. The two of them were pressed together, Dean's torso touching Castiel's. They stared up at the ceiling, a comfortable silence falling between them. Dean could feel Castiel's chest expand as he breathed, and he closed his eyes, reveling in their closeness. 

Castiel nudged his shoulder. "And how about you? Did your father also take you out, just not as often?"

Dean gave a self-deprecating smile, turning his head to look at Castiel. He shook his head.

"Nah, my dad wasn't really the touchy-feely type. At least, not after Sam was born and him and my mom had that giant fight. I swear, the whole inn was gonna collapse, they were screaming at each other so much," Dean recounts, eyes going misty as he remembered the incident. 

"After that, my dad was all about work - he was a soldier and he wasn't home all that often. Sam never really knew him the way I did because Dad never handled Sam the way he did me. Before Sam was born, we'd go out on the water every weekend, Dad just teaching me stuff and me listening like every word out of his mouth was golden. Which, I guess, to a three-year old it was. And then they just - the trips stopped." Dean paused to wipe his eyes. "Hell if I know why I'm telling you all this." 

Castiel's face was earnest, leaning close to Dean in an attempt to offer him comfort. He encouraged Dean to go on with a smile and Dean continued, voice becoming rough as he got to the worst part.

"One day he just left. I don't know, I heard shouting and woke up, glanced over at Sammy, crept downstairs. And there's my mom, crying at the table, and my dad nowhere to be seen. I looked out the window and -" He cut himself off, feeling the pressure behind his eyes burn as a single tear slipped down his cheek. Almost immediately he was wrapped in a soft grip; Castiel's arms had come around him and were currently holding Dean to his body, pressing Dean's face into his shoulder and burying his own in Dean's neck. Dean couldn't do anything but grip back, words still falling brokenly from his mouth.

"I didn't - I looked out the window and he was halfway down the path, walking off toward a ship in the distance. I raced after him, I did, but he either didn't hear me or didn't care, because he boarded that damn ship and we never fucking - we never saw him again."

Castiel squeezed him more tightly as the tears came in earnest, Dean's shoulders shaking. He let Castiel comfort him, waiting for the flood of tears to abate. He'd never talked about that day with anyone, not even Sam, and here he was crying into the shoulder of some man he'd just met. Yet, somehow, it wasn't weird, not at all. he just felt safe. Protected. Castiel was still hugging him tightly and Dean felt his chest burn with the weight of his emotion. 

"Cas..." He trailed off, pulling back to look Castiel in the eyes. "Thanks."

Castiel smiled gently. "Of course." His arm was still stroking Dean's back slowly, and Dean felt grounded by the touch. "I'm sorry about your father."

Dean shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Eh, it was a long time ago. I've gotten used to it." 

"Why did your father leave?"

Dean stood up abruptly. "Let's go back to the engine room," he said, effectively cutting off the conversation. His face was blank and his voice was bleak. Tightening up the knots, he hopped out of the boat and stuck his hands into his pockets as he walked away from Castiel along the platform. He heard a thump come from behind him and barely had time to turn around before a hand was tightly gripping his shoulder. Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but there was a sudden blast and they were both thrown against the door, ship tilting dangerously.

\--

Sam leaned against the wall of the ship, mop standing up next to him. The bucket was slung between the ratlines, emptied of its water only minutes ago. The deck itself shone, and Morph was busy making reflections at himself to be watching Sam. Sam chuckled, observing the strange creature as it entertained itself. He shook his head, letting a grin split across his face.

An apron was tossed down into his lap and he glanced up, only to see Gabriel's smirking face staring down at him. "Almost chow time, Samsquatch. Time to get to work."

Sam stood up, indignant. "Gabriel, I just mopped the entire damn deck, don't I get a break?"

Gabriel paused for a moment, feigning consideration. He tapped his foot and pursed his lips, glance flickering along Sam's face. "No." He turned on his heel and walked away, calling an order for Sam to follow him over his shoulder.

Sam sighed heavily, grabbing the mop and bucket and following Gabriel into the small room beside the galley. Inside was a large sink, surrounded by stacks of dirty dishes. Sam gaped, looking around at the tall stacks. "Gabriel, did it ever occur to you to wash a couple of dishes now and then?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, cuffing Sam around the head. "No. And you know why? Because Captain Harvelle assigned me a cabin boy, and I figured I'd put him to work instead of doing it myself." He shoved Sam toward the stacks of dirty crockery, tossing him a sponge and scourge. "Hop to it, then." 

Sam made a face at him once he'd turned his back, turning to grab a dish and start scrubbing. He sat on a stool in front of the sink, legs helping him find his balance. Gabriel leaned against the wall, watching his progress, playing with his cyber-arm. Slowly the pile of dirty plates shrunk until there was nothing left. Sam stood and stretched his legs, shaking out the lingering tightness from balancing upon a shaky stool. He pulled off his apron and tossed it to the side, flattening his hair from where the apron had ruffled it. Gabriel pushed himself away from the wall with a click of his tongue.

"Impressive, Sammy," he said, walking over to the stack of cleaned dishes. 

"It's Sam."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and sauntered over to the curtain, pulling it open. "Let's go," he called over his shoulder, letting the curtain fall into place behind him. Sam muttered expletives under his breath as he followed Gabriel up the stairs and out of the galley. Gabriel tossed him a new apron, one that smelled of brine. It was a crusty apron colored green, and Sam held it gingerly, staring disbelievingly at Gabriel.

"I have to wear this?"

Gabriel let out a huffed breath. "Yeah, you do, princess. C'mon, it's not that bad. And you can wash up later." He strode over to where a bucket and a strange tool lay, tossing the bucket to Sam. It was empty but for a rag. Sam looked up at Gabriel after catching the bucket, just in time to grab the tool as it was thrown to him. It had a flat surface, looking like a scraper that people used when they were working with brick. Gabriel shoved at Sam's shoulder and they both made their way across the deck to where a small platform lay, attached to the boat by thick ropes. 

Gabriel threw it over the side along with a long ladder that only barely reached to the top of the loose platform. He looked over at Sam and tilted his head in the direction of the platform. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Sam paused. "I have to go down there?" He looked over the edge of the boat. The platform rested about 20 feet below him, swaying gently with the solar wind. He shook his head. "No way."

"Sorry, kiddo, but yes way. Now get down there and start scraping. I don't remember saying this was optional." Gabriel nudged Sam closer to the ladder and took the bucket from him. "I'll send this down once you're set."

"Wait, Gabriel. What am I even doing?"

"Well, there are these strange space mollusks attached to the side of the boat and you get to scrape them off. Fun, huh?" Gabriel said, waggling his eyebrows at Sam. "C'mon, we don't have all day."

Sam swallowed his protest and moved toward the ladder, gripping it firmly in his hand. He swung his legs over the edge, finding the first rung and testing it for any sign of weakness. It held up under his weight and he slowly descended the ladder, landing on the wooden platform gently. A rope fell down next to his face; the bucket and scraper were tied onto the end of it. Sam sat along the narrow platform with his legs dangling over the edge. He set to work, scraping the black circles off of the side of the boat and watching them float away into the abyss of space. 

"Sam, I need to go do something else, you okay down there?" Gabriel called, sticking his head over the edge.

"Yeah," Sam grunted, scraping off a particularly stuck mollusk. "M'fine."

"When you're done go back to the galley."

"Will do," Sam said, saluting Gabriel. A pink blob flew in front of Sam's face and he yelled out, almost falling backward. 

"I sent Morph down there to look after you," Gabriel was saying, sounding like he was choking back laughter. "Have fun, you two."

He heard footsteps walk away, and set about with his task. It was grueling work, and his shoulders got more exercise than they had for his entire life. There was one close call where he overestimated the ability of one certain mollusk to stay attached to the boat, and he unbalanced himself as he shoved down on it sharply. His arms pin wheeled through the air as he fought to stay balanced on the platform; he grabbed desperately at the ladder, which thankfully stayed in place as he used it to haul himself up.

Hours later he was finally finished, and he climbed the ladder with the bucket handle held in his teeth. Morph followed him up, chattering excitedly. Sam pulled up the platform, resting it where he had seen it lying before Gabriel had shoved it over the edge. Leaving the bucket next to the platform he went to turn around, colliding with a hard back. He stumbled backward, reaching out to steady himself with a hand on the railing. 

The creature he had bumped into cocked his head and turned to face Sam. His yellow eyes glinted dangerously. Claws hung at his sides, clacking dangerously as he faced Sam. 

"You best watch where you're going, boy," the creature hissed, shoving his face close to Sam's. Sam leaned backward, eyes wide. Morph buried himself into Sam's pants pocket, peeking over the edge.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't -" He was choked off as the creature grabbed the front of his shirt, shoving him back against a pole. 

"I didn't ask for your excuses." The creature's claw pressed across Sam's clavicle, cutting off his airway. Around them, a crowd grew; they cheered on the creature, yelling colorful suggestions for how he should punish Sam. Sam struggled against his tight grip, feet kicking uselessly against the pole.

"Mr. Alastair." The pressure on Sam's neck pulled away and he fell to the deck, gasping and grabbing at his throat. He coughed, tugging the front of his shirt away from his neck and gulping in huge amounts of air. Morph flew in front of his face, bumping Sam's chin gently and forcing him to look up. 

Gabriel was standing there, tightly controlled fury hidden behind a mask of nonchalance. His cyber-arm had turned into a clamp, which was gripping the softer shell of Alastair's arm. He twisted a knob and the clamp tightened, sending Alastair to his knees with a pained cry. Gabriel leaned in close to Alastair, tightening the knob further.

"What's going on?" A booming voice came from the helm, where Ash stood with a fiery look on his normally laid-back face. He vaulted the railing and landed on the deck with a crash, causing all the sailors to jump. They tried to cower behind each other as he surveyed each of them with anger in his eyes. "I warned you when we set off that there wouldn't be any fighting aboard this ship. I wasn't just talking to hear my own voice. Neither I nor the captain would be afraid to throw each and every one of you in the brig," Ash said, voice quiet and deadly. Sam ducked his head, playing with a loose string along the edge of his pants. Morph flew back into his pocket, trembling.

"Now," Ash continued. "Back to your stations. I'm sure you all have work to be doing." 

The entire crew hurried off to their posts, none of them daring to make a sound. Alastair stood where he had, glaring at Ash. Gabriel was standing off to the side, treating Alastair with a frosty glare. Sam watched the three of them, expecting fireworks to explode. Instead, Ash bent down to look Alastair in his eyes, not one hint of humor on his face.

"Am I clear, Mr. Alastair?"

Alastair looked for a minute like he wanted to argue or deny it, but he squinted at Ash with a look of pure hatred on his face. "As glass, sir."

"Good." Ash straightened up and turned, marching back up the steps to the helm. Alastair turned away with a muttered curse and crawled up a pole to where he was stationed on the royal yard. Gabriel watched him go, arms crossed. Once everyone had cleared out he turned toward Sam, annoyance clear on his face.

"Thought you had a job to do?"

"I did, I finished it and I came up here and that asshole -" Sam sputtered, throwing his arms to the side. Gabriel rolled his eyes as he ranted, before reaching out and covering Sam's mouth with a warm hand. His eyes were flinty when they met Sam's, and Sam shut up immediately.

"Normally, when you aren't an important member of a ship, you don't go picking fights with someone like that," Gabriel hissed.

"Hey, I didn't pick a fight with him, I bumped into him and he freaking attacked me, it -" 

"Sam, shut up," Gabriel said, rubbing a hand along his face. "Didn't your dad teach you to stay low and keep out of sight in situations like that?"

Sam immediately froze, mouth pressing together and eyes growing dark. He shrugged off Gabriel's hand from where it rested on his shoulder and stalked over to the railing. He leaned on the edge and watched as the ship sailed through the celestial winds of space.

"Sam?" Gabriel asked, coming up to stand beside him. He reached out a hand to Sam, putting it on his back. "Talk to me." Sam turned his head away, pressure building behind his eyes. He pulled away from Gabriel and pushed away from the edge, shoving his hand in his pockets. 

"Fine. But not here." Sam descended the steps into the galley, collapsing at a table close to the door. His head was buried in his arms. Footsteps sounded down the stairs behind him, and he felt the bench shift as someone sat down next to him. Sam took a deep breath in before he started speaking.

"No, I didn't have anyone to teach me how to act. Not really."

Gabriel was silent beside him, obviously letting him gather his thoughts before pelting him with questions. 

"I had a dad, just - not for long. He was a soldier, and whenever he was on leave he worked over at the local mine, bringing in some extra money. We didn't make a lot at the inn, and we were just scraping by.

"I don't even remember what he looked like," Sam whispered. "I mean, I've seen pictures, but it just - it's not the same."

Sam felt a hand stroke comfortingly along his arm, a physical presence that helped keep him from getting lost in the volatile emotions that the memories caused. 

"I still remember the day he left. It was just some normal day - me and Dean were gonna wake up and go to the canyon, explore a bit. I remember waking up and going to look out the window, and there was a boat far off in the distance and Dean was walking up the path toward the inn, and I just-" Sam  
cut himself off, grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead. "I froze, I didn't... hell, I was only 5 years old, I didn't know what was happening. I just wanted to go downstairs and get some pancakes, and instead Mom is crying at the table and Dean is stumbling around not speaking, and-" Sam took a deep breath, feeling the pressure build up behind his eyes. "Nothing was the same after that."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Gabriel said, eyes soft. He patted Sam on the shoulder, rubbing gently after a couple moments. A tear coursed down Sam's face and Gabriel stood up, moving determinedly toward a dark shadow in the corner. A dark curtain hung from the ceiling and Gabriel threw it back with a flourish, displaying an odd square box, on top of which a rusted copper shell was mounted. There was a small needle that was clenched in an arm, stretching across the box. 

Sam glanced up from where he was staring at the floor, eyes still wet. "Gabriel, what-"

Gabriel shushed him with a wave of his hand, rummaging under the box through what seemed to be thin square pieces of paper. He rose with a triumphant "ha!", tilting the envelope upside down. A circular disk fell into his hand and Sam tilted his head, staring curiously at the apparatus. The disk fell onto the box, fitting neatly into a grooved area the same rough shape as the disk. Gabriel pulled the needle to the outside of the disk and let go, the needle falling to the top of the box. A scratchy sound filled the small galley, quickly followed by plucking guitar sounds interspersed with harsh drum beats. Gabriel crowed in excitement and pumped a fist, backing up from the apparatus and standing beside Sam.

Sam, for his part, glanced at Gabriel, about to ask about the strange object. Gabriel beat him to the punch, however, and gestured toward the box.

"Record player. Used a couple thousand years ago, but I was lucky enough to scrounge one up at an antiques auction. Got some CD's that day, too, and gotta say, they're better than this electric stuff that's popular now," Gabriel explained. "Those things are called albums, and each of them hold a disk. Disks have music, and the record player plays the music. Capische?"

Sam nodded, eyes wandering over the record player. It looked ancient, but the quality was still good. Impressive, considering the age. Next to him, Gabriel was bouncing on his feet to the beat of the music, and Sam found his tears drying on his face. A soft feeling of warmth was building in his chest as he watched Gabriel.

"Figured you could use a little pick me up, kiddo. Get your mind back in a happy place." Gabriel moved toward Sam, grabbing one of Sam's large hands in his admittedly smaller ones. "D'you know how to dance?"

"Dance? No, no, I can't-" Sam stuttered, Gabriel tugging him away from the chair and into the empty space in the galley. Their hands were loosely linked, fingers tangling as Gabriel pulled Sam farther into the center of the room. The first song stopped playing, the scratchy sound of the disk the only thing able to be heard. Gabriel stopped and Sam barely missed crashing into him, leaning back and almost losing hold of his hand. Gabriel was stronger than he looked, however, and he pulled Sam back, flush into his chest. Sam looked down at Gabriel, who was smiling cheekily up at him. The height difference made it a little awkward, and Sam pulled back, standing about an arm's length from Gabriel. "Gabriel-"

The music started up again, guitar chords moving in syncopation, the smooth beats hammering out a steady tempo. Gabriel started swaying, pulling Sam along with him. Sam rolled his eyes but followed Gabriel's movements, feeling a reluctant smile pull his lips up into a gentle curve. 

"It was the heat of the moment," Gabriel was singing softly, grinning at Sam and pulling their bodies tighter together until their chests and legs were brushing with every sway. Gabriel twirled suddenly, twisting away from Sam. Sam let out a shocked laugh, the image of Gabriel twirling completely erasing the pained memories that their conversation had brought up. 

Sam hadn't felt this light in ages, carefree laughter bubbling its way up his chest as Gabriel danced awkwardly with him, spinning around in his arms. The track continued playing, drawing Sam in to its upbeat melody. He ducked under Gabriel's arm and twisted around, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from Gabriel. They danced closer together and the music rose to a crescendo, ending with Gabriel dipping Sam awkwardly with his cyber-arm, obviously strong enough to hold Sam's not-so-little body off the ground. Sam let out a breathless laugh, gazing up at Gabriel as the track skipped and came to an end, the scratching sound of the needle filling the room. 

Gabriel pulled Sam up, their hands lingering together. Their fingers were linked, and Sam didn't feel much like pulling away just that moment. Gabriel seemed to feel much the same, for he was staring at their joined hands with an intensity that hadn't been on his face during the dance. He licked his lips, eyes not leaving their hands. Slowly, Gabriel's gaze traveled upward to meet Sam's eyes, and Sam could have sworn he saw a glimmer of sharpness in their golden depths. In the next moment it was gone, replaced by a warmth that made Sam feel strangely off-kilter inside. 

Gabriel's eyes locked on his lips and Sam's own eyes widened, tongue darting out to moisten his lips without his conscious approval. Gabriel's eyes flickered, warmth disappearing for one short moment to show a deep hunger. Sam found himself instinctively moving forward, eyes tracking Gabriel's tongue as it mimicked Sam's own actions, peeking between his wet lips only for a moment. 

Gabriel leaned forward and Sam allowed himself a moment of panic before giving in, tilting his head to the side. They were mere centimeters away, and Sam could feel Gabriel's honey-scented breath upon his lips, causing goose bumps to run up and down his spine. 

An explosion rent the air and the ship tilted, throwing Sam and Gabriel against the opposite wall.


	5. Black Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel work in the rigging while Sam and Gabriel try to fix the radio on the helm. Oh, there's also a black hole intent upon pulling the ship into its maw.

The ship tilted dangerously as Dean and Castiel slammed into the door, Castiel falling on top of Dean with a grunt. Sirens went off around them and the room was bathed in a red light, warning alarms blaring. The longboats crashed against the sides of the boat, ropes tangling. Dean shoved Castiel off of his chest, struggling to his feet. He reached down a hand to Castiel, who grabbed it and hauled himself up. 

"The fuck was that?" Dean yelled, leaning close to Castiel's ear so he could be heard over the whine of the sirens. Castiel shook his head, turning to shout in Dean's ear.

"I have no idea - there wasn't a hint of turbulence on the meters, it should have been smooth sailing until we hit the asteroid-clad Demonic Gate."

"Could we be there already?"

Castiel shook his head again, eyes panicked. "No, I'm the one who set the thrusters, we shouldn't be anywhere remotely near there yet."

Dean's head spun wildly, trying to absorb all the information and figure out what they should do next. Going to the main deck seemed to be a good option. He tugged on Castiel's arm and threw open the door, running through the flashing hallway until he reached the staircase on the opposite end. Castiel was close on his heels. They raced up the stairs and to the deck, spinning around as crew members rushed around them, climbing the masts or the rigging with knives between their teeth. The ship was tail-spinning through space as Mr. Samandriel worked at the helm, trying to keep her steady. Dean and Castiel saw the problem at the same time, if the gasp Castiel gave at his side was hint enough. 

A star had gone supernova, emitting bright pulses of light and raining flaming debris upon anything unfortunate enough to come within range. The RLS Chevrolet was close enough to have felt the initial blast wave, and she was still close enough for the debris to reach her. Despite the efforts of Mr. Samandriel, the helmsman, the ship was still being pulled toward the exploding star. Coming directly at the ship were flaming meteors, tearing holes in the sails and crashing hard to the deck, where the grounds crew hurried to put out the flames. Ash was standing at the top of the helm, leaning heavily on the railing as he ordered the crew about, directing them to their stations. Crew members rushed in every direction, pushing past Dean and Castiel with no words at all. Dean gripped Castiel's arm tighter, determined not to lose him in the pandemonium on the deck. Castiel seemed to have the same idea, pressing close to Dean as they pushed through the mayhem to reach Ash. 

Dean craned his neck to look for Sam, seeing him stumble up out of the galley with Gabriel leading the charge. The pair of them ran over to the helm, scaling the staircase with ease and conversing urgently with Bobby and Ellen. Dean ran toward them, intent on making sure that Sam was okay. Castiel pulled back on his arm, and Dean halted, glaring at Castiel.

"Dude, let go, I gotta talk to my brother," Dean said, trying in vain to tug his arm away from Castiel. Castiel dropped his hand and inclined his head toward the railing where Ash leaned, beckoning the two of them over with a massive hand. Dean groaned, giving up the pursuit of his brother and instead making his way over to Ash. He stumbled as the ship jolted again, falling into Castiel. He was stronger than Dean originally thought, and easily steadied Dean with a firm hand. Giving him a nod of thanks, Dean turned toward Ash. Ash was yelling down at them, making frantic motions with his hands. 

"I need you two to get up on the yard and close the sail! If any more meteors damage them we won't be able to move!" Ash called, tossing the both of them knives. Castiel nodded quickly and pulled on Dean's arm, directing him to the mainmast. Sitting there were two unused ropes, lifelines, and Dean grabbed them both, tossing one to Castiel. Castiel caught it with one hand, tying it tightly around his waist. The other end went around a spoke lying melded to the mainmast, and he pressed his leg into the mast to tie it off tightly, tugging on it to check durability. Dean copied his motions, moving his knife to hold it between his teeth. After ensuring the ropes were safe, Dean and Castiel made their way to the shrouds, standing on the edge to get a better grip. They both pulled themselves up quickly, balancing precariously on the narrow beam of wood that the sail flew from. Dean tucked his knife into his belt, freeing his mouth to call across the beam to Castiel. 

"On the count of three!" Dean grabbed one of the ropes in his hand, tugging experimentally. Castiel mirrored his movements across the beam, grabbing the second rope. 

"Three!" Dean yelled, pulling down on the rope with all his might. Together, he and Castiel closed the sail, avoiding any smacks in the face when the sail fluttered loosely. Dean bent down to tie off the sail, making a loose Siberian hitch that would keep the sail closed. He glanced up in time to see Castiel finish tying his off, bright flame growing on his face. Dean looked to the right but was too late to stop it; a small meteor came crashing into the ship and hit the wooden beam right in front of where Castiel was kneeling, causing him to pinwheel backward and teeter off of the beam. Dean leapt forward just as Castiel fell of the beam, rope flying. 

"Cas!" Dean yelled, lunging forward to grab the slack rope that was Castiel's lifeline. He hauled it up, feeling his shoulders and back burn as he pulled. An arm reached up and wrapped itself around the beam; Castiel's dark hair became visible as he pulled himself up, breathing heavily and bending over on the beam. Dean ran over to him, keeping a tight hold on the rope. "You okay, man?"

Castiel nodded, coughing. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean shrugged, grinning uncontrollably. "Just glad you're alright." His heart was still racing, and he wiped a hand over his sweaty face. Rising to his knees, he became aware of a bright heat coming from his right, and he turned, stopping himself from trying to instinctively take a step back. Castiel's hand clutched at Dean's arm as he turned as well, mouth dropping open in a soundless gasp. 

Coming straight at the ship was a meteor at least 5 times the size of her, burning bright and setting the outermost sails on fire. The crew members put the fires out quickly, but it didn't do much - the RLS Chevrolet wasn't able to sail out of the way, not with the sails out of commission and all technology shot to hell from the increased electromagnetic charge from the meteors. Or so Castiel said, muttering it into Dean's ear without taking his eyes of the meteor in front of them. Shouts came from the deck below, and Dean glanced down to see Mr. Uriel, the ballistics manager, try futilely to pump the meteor full of electric cannonballs. It didn't work, and Mr. Uriel abandoned his post, scrambling to the helm where Ash and Ellen stood, calling out orders. Dean closed his eyes against the heat, feeling the press of Castiel against his side. The heat grew to an unbearable degree, and Dean leaned back, trying to get away from it.

In the next moment, the heat was gone, nothing but cool space air caressing Dean's face. Castiel remained frozen at his side, and Dean dared to open his eyes. The meteor was flying away from them at a breakneck pace. Dean breathed out a loud sigh of relief, tipping his head back to look up at the heavens. He turned his head back to where the meteor had been, and the sight made his blood run cold. Far off in the distance, the meteor was being pulled toward -

"A black hole," Castiel whispered, hand tightening on Dean's arm. Dean blinked rapidly, hoping that it was all a hallucination. 

It wasn't.

The star that had exploded had devolved, turning into a black hole, an abyss devoid of light or matter. and the Chevrolet was heading straight toward it. Short intermittent pulses of energy were coming from the black hole, rushing over the ship with electricity crackling. One passed across Dean and Castiel, and Dean felt electricity tingling along his arms and legs as it moved over him. He shivered, feeling Castiel do the same next to him. The waves seemed random, rushing over the ship at strange intervals and pushing the ship back even as the gravitational pull of the black hole drew the ship closer. A call came from below, in the booming voice of Ash, and Dean craned his neck to try and see the deck. 

Crew members were scurrying around the deck, pulling on their lifelines to make sure they were still safe. Ellen's voice rose above the crowd, calling orders to the crew. 

"Let the sails fly free!" She called, having taken Mr. Samandriel's place at the helm. The crew grumbled, resentfully climbing back up the masts to loosen the ties on the sails. Dean stood up from where he was crouched next to Castiel, hurrying down to the end of the beam to cut open the tie. He pulled his knife from where it sat cinched in his belt, slicing swiftly through the line as Castiel did the same with the other rope. The sail unfurled with a giant gust of air and Dean leapt backwards to dodge it. He held tightly to the rope, swinging across the large sail to meet Castiel on the other side. The ship was still falling into the black hole, but no new waves had pulsed in the last couple minutes. A hoarse yell came from somewhere on the starboard side, opposite of Dean and Castiel, and Dean tried to tilt his head to see what it could be. The light was quickly being swallowed by the black hole, and Dean could barely even see Castiel, who was less than a foot away. 

The ship tilted dangerously and Dean overbalanced, starting to fall backwards off of the beam. Castiel grabbed the collar of Dean's shirt and tugged hard, falling backwards when the weight of Dean's body came crashing back onto the beam. They both collided with the mast, Castiel with his back to the mast and Dean pressed along his front. Dean closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Castiel, burying his head into the space between his shoulders and neck. He felt Castiel's arms hesitantly wrap around his waist, holding Dean closer to him, and felt the brush of eyelashes against his temple.

All sensation disappeared as the ship fell into the black hole, all except for the hard line of Castiel's chest pressing against his. There was a distant sound of an explosion, and light shone outside of Dean's closed eyes, enough that he could see it through his eyelids. A gust of wind buffeted the ship, and the sails caught, flaring out widely and illuminating the sky, pulling the ship out of the black hole. Cheers erupted from the crew as the ship fought its way back to safe space, floating along contentedly with the gentle celestial breeze. Ellen stood at the helm proudly, looking down upon the crew.

"The energy wave," Castiel mumbled, staring around vacantly. His mind seemed to be racing, while Dean's own could do no more than thank whatever deity may be that they were alive. Dean suddenly became aware of something wrapped loosely around his back, and looked down only to see Castiel's arms holding him in place. He glanced up, meeting Castiel's eyes, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion as Dean had. 

Dean blushed furiously, moving away and breaking Castiel's hold on him. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, looking down and away from Castiel. Wordlessly, he tossed a rope to Castiel, taking one for himself and using it to swing down to the main deck. Castiel followed as Dean knew he would, landing gracefully and standing uncomfortably far from Dean. Struggling not to reach out and tug Castiel closer until he was a normal distance away, Dean tightened his hands into fists and shoved them into his pocket. They both walked over to where Ellen stood, maneuvering to the front of the crowd. Dean stood on his tiptoes and glanced around the crowd, hoping that Sam's tall figure would stand out. He spotted him standing upon the helm, smiling down at Gabriel and muttering with him, faces turned toward each other. Dean smirked, tucking away that little nugget of information to tease Sam with later on. Words filtered through his thoughts and he turned his attention back at Ellen, directly addressing the crew.

Ellen stood tall with her hands clasped behind her back, smiling down at the crew. Mr. Samandriel had reclaimed control of the wheel and was carefully steering the ship away from the black hole and toward the Caplison Nebula. Bobby was leaning against the far railing, permanent scowl on his face. His arms were crossed, but Dean could recognize the base admiration and awe in his eyes as he stared at Ellen.

"Well done, ladies and gents. We would never have gotten out of that mess if it weren't for all of your hard work and effort. So, I thank you for that. And, Mr. Milton, your cabin boy came through for us today with the lifelines. Well done, Mr. Winchester," she said, nodding toward Sam. Sam blushed and ducked his head; Gabriel elbowed him in the side and he looked up, giving a small little wave as every eye turned to him. Dean smiled and whooped, feeling an inexorable pride rising up in his chest at the sight of his little brother.

"Now, Mr. Miles, if you wouldn't mind - Mr. Miles?"

Dean turned to look through the crowd for Ash; his large form was nowhere to be seen. Castiel looked worried next to him, and even from across the way Dean could see that Sam and Gabriel were whispering urgently to one another.

The sound of scuttling footsteps came from the back of the crowd. A narrow alleyway formed, with the crew moving to the sides to make room for the spider creature that Dean had seen around the ship before. His head was bowed, and in his claws he held a black sailors hat. It looked awfully familiar, although it did take Dean a moment to place it. The insignia of a gun crossed over a beer bottle meant it could only belong to one person.

"I'm afraid," the creature began. "That Mr. Miles is no longer with us."

He handed the hat up to Ellen, who gripped it with slightly trembling hands, eyes wet. She unconsciously tightened her grip on the hat, swallowing heavily and fixing the creature with a steely gaze. 

"How did this happen, Mr. Alastair?" She asked, voice tightly controlled so no sign of weakness would show. The only thing that betrayed her shaken demeanor was her white-knuckled grip on the hat. The crew was all silent, most looking shocked as the news sank into their minds.

"I couldn't tell you, Captain. One moment he was there and the next he wasn't. His lifeline didn't seem to be that secure." The eyes of the crew turned toward Sam simultaneously, and he looked horrified. Dean cocked his head as he watched his brother, confused. Sam was shaking his head back and forth, mouth opening in closing in soundless bursts. Gabriel, at his side, rested a hand on his arm to try and get him to calm down. Dean looked from Sam to Ellen; she had a neutral look on her face, but her eyes were burning with accusation and disappointment. Sam backed away from the heavy gazes of the crew, holding his hands up as if to block him from their eyes. He turned his eyes first desperately upon Dean, then imploringly directed them at the captain.

"Captain, I promise, I checked all the lifelines when you said, I did, they were all secure, I don't -" Sam stopped, head swiveling around frantically, looking for any sign of friendliness in the eyes upon him. He stumbled down the stairs and pushed through the crowd, fighting to get to the mainmast. The crowd followed him as he moved, separating enough so that everyone could see the spoke on the mainmast where the lifelines were tied off.

There was an empty space where Ash's was supposed to be.

"No, no no no," Sam was whispering, backing away from the mainmast with his hands frozen at his sides. He spun around to face the crew. "I checked them all."

No one moved, and Sam curled in on himself, unable to bear the accusatory glances thrown his way. He let out a shaky breath and turned away, walking briskly away from everyone, shoulders trembling. Dean moved to go after him, raising a hand in Sam's direction. Before he could move, his wrist was caught in a tight grip. He turned to look at who'd grabbed it, and Castiel lowered his arm slowly, shaking his head. 

"He's my brother," Dean said, not trying to break out of Castiel's grip. His eyes were hypnotic and made Dean feel more calm than he thought he would about the whole situation.

"Your brother needs someone else right now," Castiel said, inclining his head toward Gabriel. Gabriel was fixing an icy stare upon the side of Mr. Alastair's head, arms crossed and mouth pressed in a stiff line. He didn't seem to have noticed that Sam had left his side. Dean moved to go after his brother again, but Castiel hadn't released his grip yet.

"Man, let go," Dean muttered, pulling away from Castiel.

"Wait."

Dean turned back toward where Gabriel had been standing, surprised to find he wasn't there. He looked around the ship and finally spotted Gabriel's coat as it flowed around him, back turned toward the crew as he hurried off in the same direction as Sam. Dean grimaced, still not completely okay with the idea of a pirate comforting his brother over himself. But he thought he'd test Castiel's judgment - and hell, wasn't that a strange thought, he'd only just met the guy a day ago - and let it play itself out. He turned to face Ellen and could have sworn he saw a tear slip down her cheek.

"Mr. Miles was a - Ash, was - he was a brilliant first mate. Best I've ever had, to be honest. He was more like a son to me than an employee, and it breaks my heart to know he's gone." She took a breath, grounding herself, then moved on. Bobby came up behind her and gripped her shoulder comfortingly. "But he wouldn't have wanted us to dwell upon this. We keep heading to our destination. Resume your posts everybody." She stepped back from the railing, walking briskly to her stateroom. Bobby followed her in, shutting the door tightly.

Dean turned to look where Sam had run off to, not able to see him on the deck. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. Castiel appeared in front of him, meeting Dean's gaze.

"We need to get back down to the engine room," Castiel said, beckoning for Dean to follow him. Dean shoved his hands and they crossed the deck, casting a last glance at the direction Sam had gone in before descending the steps into darkness.

\--

Sam groaned, rolling over and resting on his hands and knees. His head was throbbing from where it had collided with the floor, and next to him, Gabriel wasn't faring much better. Gabriel lay slumped against the wall, hand in his hair as he let out a moan, using the wall to prop himself up. Sam pushed himself to his feet and rested a hand against the wall, trying desperately to remain on balance. 

"The hell," Gabriel gasped out, rubbing a hand over his face as he turned to face Sam. His back slid down the wall and he leaned further into it, trying to stay upright.

Sam shook his head, breathing hard. "Don't ask me, I've never been on a ship before in my life." He touched his fingers to his head and they came away red. Shakily, he stood up and stumbled over to the counter, where towels lay strewn across the top. Pressing one to his head, he leaned backward against the counter and stared at Gabriel. Gabriel's head was thrown back and he was using his cyber arm to stitch up a long gash on his arm.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Gabriel grimaced. "Fell on a knife, apparently. What happened to you, kiddo?"

"Hit my head. May have a minor concussion." Sam hissed as he shifted his arm, accidentally pressing hard against the cut on his head. "Head wounds always bleed a lot, so I can't be sure how bad it is."

"Gotta be pretty bad. I mean, hitting the floor from your height? Dangerous."

Sam cracked a smile, letting out a short laugh. Gabriel's own chuckle was cut off as he gasped, cutting the string he'd used for the stitches. His eyes were glazed over in pain, but he still stood up and beckoned to Sam.

"We need to find out what's going on."

Sam nodded, then took away the towel. It was covered in red, but he just tossed it into the sink and rubbed gingerly at his head before following Gabriel. They ascended the stairs rapidly, most of the shock from the jolt gone. Sam's head was still swimming, and he could have sworn there weren't two Ellens on the ship. He opened his mouth to ask Gabriel and then thought better of it, instead hurrying over to the helm. Bobby and Ellen were frantically rushing about, Ellen calling orders to Ash to relay to the crew and Bobby moving between every scientific device on the helm and calling out its readings.

It was complete and utter chaos. Sam turned toward the right and swore under his breath. A star exploding never meant something good, and now it was raining fiery meteorites down upon the ship. One collided with the mast, put out quickly, just as another crashed into the stern. The crew was panicking, dashing about and trying to prevent further damages. Mr. Uriel manned the ships cannons, shooting electrified balls of blue light into the smaller meteorites, causing them to explode and rain down dust upon the crew.

Definitely preferable to fire.

Next to him, Gabriel was muttering curses under his breath and anxiously playing with the screw on his cyber arm. Sam leaned in and nudged him with a shoulder, trying to get him to relax a bit. Granted, there was pretty good reason to be freaking out, but a calm Gabriel would be a more helpful Gabriel. They pair of them hurried over to where Bobby and Ellen were currently standing, arguing over the readings on one of the fancy tools Bobby had brought along with him.

"What happened?" Gabriel called, trying to be heard over the cacophony of the crew's yells. When that didn't work he tapped the back of Bobby's jacket; the old man jumped, spinning around at the sudden touch. He leveled Sam with a glare that made him feel guilty, and crossed his arms as he glared at Gabriel. 

Gabriel shrugged unapologetically. Sam rolled his eyes at his behavior, mouthing 'sorry' at Bobby. Bobby nodded. 

"So what the hell is happening?" Gabriel asked, leaning closer to Bobby. Bobby craned his neck to look over at where the star had exploded, turning back to Gabriel with an unimpressed look on his face. Gabriel scowled, opening his mouth to comment. Sam quickly stepped in front of him, unceremoniously shoving Gabriel back before he could get himself into trouble. 

"Where do you need us, Bobby?" Sam asked, ignoring the punch Gabriel threw at his shoulder. Bobby glanced around the helm, eyes lighting up as his gaze landed on a particularly loud piece of equipment. He grabbed Sam's shoulders as Sam grabbed the sleeve of Gabriel's coat, tugging him over to where the instrument was blaring. It was a small box, connected by wires to the cabinet it sat upon, wires traveling through a hole in the cabinet top to reach the inside. 

"This is our radio, supposed to be able to call in to headquarters if we ever get ourselves into a shitpile and I think this qualifies. Problem is, the damn things been alarming ever since the electromagnetic spike, so we can't call in for help. If you boys can get it working again, it'd do us a hell of a lot of good."

Sam nodded as Bobby plodded off back to Ellen, who was calling his name and glaring down at another piece of equipment. Her face was ashen, and Bobby's tone hadn't been much better. Sam swallowed heavily. He turned toward Gabriel, who was leaning against the cabinet with his arms crossed over his chest and his hat tipped down over his face. Sam groaned, pulling Gabriel's hat off of his head and holding it up.

"Hey!" Gabriel called out, trying futilely to jump up and grab his hat from where Sam held it. 

"Don't sulk," Sam warned, before dropping Gabriel's hat back onto his head. "We've got work to do."

He felt along the back of the radio to see if there were any disconnected wires. Finding nothing, Sam pulled back and stared at the radio, trying to figure out where to start. Next to him, Gabriel was biting the inside of his cheek, looking thoughtful. The radio was still making siren-like noises, and Sam tried not to place his hands over his ears to cover them from the sound. 

Gabriel grunted and bent down, flipping his cyber arm inward to reveal a sharp saw. He cut along the cabinet and pulled out the cut square. Rotating his arm again, he produced a flashlight which he shone into the dark cabinet. Inside was a mess of tangled wires and cobwebs; Gabriel swore. Sam bent down as well, trying to see around Gabriel's shoulder and peer inside. 

Sam felt Gabriel's arm shift, and suddenly the light went out. Gabriel straightened up next to him and Sam followed suit, question on his lips.

"What was -" He was cut off as another deluge of fireballs collided with the ship, causing it to be knocked back a few feet. Sam stumbled as Gabriel fell into his chest, set off-balance from the crash. He pulled away from Sam as soon as he regained his bearings, and Sam realized that he missed the warmth of Gabriel's body once he'd moved. Gabriel muttered an apology and turned away, cheeks slightly rosy. Shouts were coming from all corners of the deck and crew mates rushed to handle to fireballs and still keep the sails protected.

Sam could only just make out Dean in the yard, working diligently along someone else (probably Castiel, if Sam had one guess). He turned back toward where Gabriel had frozen in his work, staring horrified at the starboard of the ship. Coming ever closer was a huge fireball, and Sam instinctively recoiled as he felt the heat reach him. Gabriel's hands were entangled with the wires, unmoving as he stared at the large meteor. 

Sam's eyes closed as his hand found Gabriel's arm, waiting for the inevitable burn that would engulf him. The ship was silent, every crew member bending their heads to say their prayers and stilling their movements. Sam felt a touch where his hand lay on Gabriel's arm and let go, feeling another hand clasp his tightly. The tension rose to a crescendo as the heat felt unbearably close, and Sam thought of his mother, apologizing in his head. 

A cold breeze of air flitted across Sam's face and he opened one eye, squinting. Gabriel's hand pulled away from his own and a chatter rose from the crew. Sam opened his eyes fully, gasping at the horizon. The meteor was being pulled away from the ship by some unseen force, hurtling backwards. Sam tried to crane his neck and see behind the meteor, to see what was pulling it back. 

Gabriel swore under his breath next to him, hurriedly trying to reconnect the correct wires for the radio. Sam turned to him, eyes following his frantic movements.

"Gabriel, what is it?"

"Black hole," Gabriel said, teeth clenched together. "We need to get this damn radio working." He tore out a strip of rubber from one of the wires, using a knife from his cyber arm to make a slit in another. He touched the exposed end of the former wire to the slit, and a fuzzy crackling sound came from the radio.

"Singer!" Gabriel called, looking over his shoulder to lock eyes with Bobby. Sam bent over and twiddled with the knobs, static increasing as he turned it. Bobby hurried over and pushed Sam aside, dropping to his knees with much more grace than someone his age should have. He reached his hand under the cabinet and pulled out another set of wires, murmuring under his breath. 

"So if you take the A chord and connect it to the negative, it should pick up on the increased electromagnetic frequency and -"

"Use it to its advantage so the radio can tune in to the lowest possible frequency, which thankfully is the level that the station rides on," Gabriel finished, glancing up at the staticky radio. Bobby looked at him, impressed, and Gabriel shrugged.

"Not just a pretty face, Singer." He tugged on a chord, pulling it out of Bobby's hands and giving it to Sam. "Now hurry back, wouldn't want the Captain noticing your absence."

Bobby's hand shifted slightly, just enough for Sam to wince, expecting him to thwack Gabriel upside the head. Instead, his mouth twitched and he stood with a groan, pushing down on Gabriel's shoulder to get up. Sam chuckled as Bobby headed back toward Ellen, who was still standing over another piece of equipment and yelling orders at Ash. 

"How long until they get together, you think?"

"Gabriel..." 

"What? Not like it's not obvious, Samsquatch."

"Don't call me that," Sam said distractedly, staring at the wire in his hand that Gabriel had handed him. "So what do you need from me?"

Just as Gabriel was about to answer, the ship rocked back as an energy wave passed through it, emitted from the black hole. Sam stumbled back against the counter and Gabriel, still kneeling, fell into Sam's legs, cyber arm bruising Sam's shin. He hissed with pain and bit his lip to keep from crying out. His shin was throbbing, even though Gabriel had quickly moved his arm and apologized.

"Sorry, Sam-I-Am, didn't mean it. What the hell were we hit by?" Gabriel asked, leaning back against the counter as he rose to his feet. The wires had landed on the floor in a mess, and Gabriel made no move to pick them back up. 

"Blast wave. I think," Sam replied, bending to pick up the wires when Gabriel didn't. He held them out awkwardly, unsure of what to do with the wires when Gabriel didn't take them. They braced themselves against the counter as another wave rushed toward the boat, and the sound of Ellen and Bobby's yells rose above the din of the crew. Ellen had taken the wheel, and Mr. Samandriel sat against the outer boards of the ship with a dazed look on his face. Her hair flew around her face wildly, knocked from her cap by the force of the waves.

"Brilliant!" Ellen yelled, grabbing Ash's arm to direct him on their plan of attack. Her head swiveled toward Sam as Ash nodded his assent and hurried down the steps to join the crew in their efforts. He paused on the steps, telling an idle crew-member to follow him as he tied off his own lifeline and scaled the mast quickly. "Let the sails fly free! Mr. Winchester, check that all lifelines are secure!" 

Sam saluted and vaulted over a table with equipment on it to reach the stairs, taking them two at a time to reach the mainmast. He tugged on each lifeline, running around the wheel twice. "All-clear," he called to Ellen, who nodded sharply and pulled at the wheel. Sam glanced up and found Dean again, cutting off the rope he'd recently tied with a knife. All the sails were open and unfurled, and Sam dashed back to the helm so as to not be caught out in the open. He reached the cabinet where Gabriel rested, hands free of wires as he clenched the side of the boat tightly. Sam joined him, wrapping a rope around his own waist to secure him in his position. 

The ship tilted almost vertically, everyone holding on to a railing or a mast as it fell into the dark abyss. A burst of red light came from beneath the ship and the sails flared out, catching the energy from the wave and sailing out of the black hole. The thrusters pushed the ship forward once they cleared the electromagnetic field and a cheer rose from the crew. Ellen stepped back from the wheel with a relieved smile on her face, pushing her hair back under her hat. Bobby stood from where he had collapsed as the ship tilted, jumping up and grabbing Ellen in a hug. 

She coughed and he pulled away, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Ellen smiled slightly and turned away from Bobby, facing out over the railing to look down upon the crew gathered below. They were all cheering, clapping each other on the backs and raising their hands in salute to Ellen. Sam craned his neck and saw Dean and Castiel standing together, Dean's arms crossed and Castiel's resting by his sides. 

"So, angel boy's got a thing for your brother, huh?"

Sam turned toward Gabriel. "Who?"

Gabriel gestured at Dean and Castiel impatiently. "Your brother and angel boy. Castiel. They've obviously got something going on."

"First, ew. Really don't want to think about people my brother might be interested in or vice versa or - whatever. Second, why do you call Castiel 'angel boy'?"

Gabriel shrugged. "His name's Castiel, only fits."

"You know Gabriel's an angelic name too, right."

"Yeah, don't even try, kiddo," Gabriel muttered, shoving at Sam's shoulder with a smile on his face. Sam chuckled, nudging him back. Ellen's voice broke through their conversation and Sam cocked his head, watching as she complimented the crew.

"Well done, ladies and gents. We would never have gotten out of that mess if it weren't for all of your hard work and effort. So, I thank you for that. And, Mr. Milton, your cabin boy came through for us today with the lifelines. Well done, Mr. Winchester." Ellen inclined her head toward Sam, smiling at him as she did so. Sam felt a sharp nudge in his side and glared half-heartedly at Gabriel's smirk, turning back to the cheering crew and waving. His smile turned bashful when he heard Dean's cheer rise above the din, blushing furiously. 

At his side, Gabriel chuckled, patting Sam on the back. 

"Now, Mr. Miles, if you wouldn't mind - Mr. Miles?"

"Wasn't Ash at the helm?" Gabriel whispered, leaning over to speak into Sam's ear. His lips brushed the outer shell of Sam's ear and he shuddered.

"No, he left to help out the crew after the meteor fell away. I was the one who secured his lifeline," Sam mumbled. He glanced toward the back of the crowd, where a shadow was moving through the assembled crew members. Alastair pushed forward, holding a black hat in his arms like a benediction. He turned it over and the insignia became clear. Gabriel froze next to Sam as he recognized the symbol - it had been Ash's hat.

"I'm afraid," Alastair said, looking up at Ellen with a forlorn glance. "That Mr. Miles is no longer with us."

His claws extended and he handed the hat to Ellen. Bobby moved forward to stand behind her shoulder, but with a sharp glance from her he backed away, lowering his hand. Sam looked at the hat in shock - it didn't seem real, almost. Gabriel was stroking his forearm comfortingly, and Sam wanted to do nothing more than lean into his touch. Ellen cleared her throat and raised her gaze from the hat to turn her face toward Alastair. 

"How did this happen, Mr. Alastair?" 

Alastair bowed his head, mournfully averting her eyes as he replied. His voice was thick, but there was an underlying hint of glee within it that Sam couldn't clearly make out.

"I couldn't tell you, Captain. One moment he was there and the next he wasn't. His lifeline didn't seem to be that secure." Alastair turned a derisive eye toward Sam and Sam felt Gabriel grip his arm tightly, staring back at Alastair with a pinched expression on his face. The crew's head's swiveled to look at Sam, judgmental gazes falling upon him alone. Sam backed away from the mass accusing gaze, seeking out Dean's eyes in the crowd. Dean had a confused look on his face and Sam turned away, unable to bear seeing even the tiniest hint of pity or blame on his brother's face. He met Ellen's eyes, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

"Captain, I promise, I checked all the lifelines when you said, I did, they were all secure, I don't -" Gabriel's hand loosened on his arm when Sam pulled away, almost tripping down the stairs to the deck to reach the mainmast. He circled it around, looking for where Ash's lifeline had been tied. 

Everything was there, except for one lonely spoke, empty of rope. Sam stuttered, backing away from the mast and turning back toward Ellen.

"I checked them all."

Ellen didn't respond, and the crew's faces were full of mistrust and blame. Only Dean and Gabriel were looking at Sam differently than the rest; even Bobby was looking at Sam like he'd never seen him before. Sam's back hit the mast as he backed up. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned, intending to hurry away. The heavy gazes still rested on his back, and he could hear the mumblings of the crew as he left, silenced by Ellen's sharp rap against the railing. 

He headed toward the bowsprit, stopping after he rounded the entrance to the forecastle. Ellen was too far away for him to hear, and he sunk down, resting his back against the wall of the ship and pulling his knees up to his chest. There was complete silence all around him. Sam dropped his head into his palms, supported by his elbows resting upon his knees. Tremors wracked his body as everything caught up to him.

He curled tighter into himself, running his hands through his hair and pulling on his curls. 

Footsteps came from his right, and Sam's head whipped up, expecting to see Dean standing there. Instead, Gabriel was approaching him warily, cyber arm bending beams of light around the narrow area of the ship. He stood awkwardly next to Sam, resting his forearms on the railing of the ship and gazing out across the horizon.

Sam sniffed, uncurling his legs and resting his head against the hard wood of the ship. Gabriel twitched next to him, shifting uncomfortably, and Sam realized that he didn't know what to do. 

"It wasn't your fault, Sam." Gabriel broke the silence and Sam scoffed under his breath. Gabriel twisted around to look at Sam, something unreadable in his eyes. "It wasn't."

"Yeah, right. Losing Ash was the fault of the navigator. Not mine, the kid who was supposed to check all lifelines," Sam replied, sarcastically twisting the words. The pressure built up behind his eyes at his own words and he unconsciously clenched his hands into fists. Nails dug into his palms, and he felt something in his chest vindictively cheer at the pain.

"Sam," Gabriel started, reaching out a hand to grab his shoulder. Sam leaned out of the way, not allowing Gabriel to even get close. 

"Don't." Sam snapped, moving away from Gabriel. "I had one job, and I fucked up, which I guess was to be expected, y'know. But this fuck-up cost someone his life. So don't even try to say I'm not at blame." 

Gabriel was silent. But somehow Sam didn't feel any better. He stared down at his palms, not looking at Sam. Sam turned his head away, refusing to allow the tears to fall down his face. A dark chuckle sounded from next to him and he turned, surprised to see Gabriel shaking his head. 

"You think your fuck-ups are bad, kiddo?" Gabriel had pulled away from the railing and turned, facing Sam with his arms crossed and stone look on his face. "You got one man killed - and it wasn't your fault." At Sam's stutter he threw up a hand, effectively cutting off all Sam's protests. "Don't interrupt. It wasn't your fucking fault, so accept that and move on.

"A couple of years ago I got a crew together and we went on a mission to the outer reaches of the galaxy. Supposed to be easy, simple, minimum effort, maximum reward." Gabriel laughed again, brokenly, and Sam watched transfixed, not daring to say anything. "We got ambushed. I wasn't in my post, couldn't get back to the camp in time to warn anybody. It was a massacre. I was the only one who survived. Although, not without consequences." Gabriel gestured to his cybernetic arm, yellow light blinking slowly. "One of the ambushers got me as I arrived, sliced my arm. No saving it, not that I wanted them to. Everyone was killed, Sam. My commander Michael, my technofreak Andy, Bela, Raph, Chuck...everyone. They were my family and I got them killed. So stop with the pity party, because this wasn't your fault and you didn't kill Ash." 

"Gabriel -"

"And don't apologize. I've gotten over it. Mostly."

Sam was silent for a second, brooding. "How do you know it wasn't me?"

"I just do, okay," Gabriel said, nudging Sam. "Trust me."

Sam tried to smile, but it still came out wrong, somehow. "How can you be so sure?"

Gabriel reached out and gripped Sam's shoulder, forcing him to bend down so he was eye to eye with Gabriel. "I'm a great people reader, and you don't have a mean none in your body, kiddo. Also, you wouldn't screw up when someone told you to do a job. I watched. You checked all the ropes, and Ash's was there. It wasn't. Your. Fault. Get it through that head of yours, I'm sick of repeating myself over here." A smack sounded near Sam's cheek, and he recoiled at the wetness he felt. A pink blob floated in front of him, chirruping happily and blowing at his hair.

"Apparently Morph's on your side too, Sammy," Gabriel said, watching as Morph played with the long strands of Sam's hair. Sam reached a hand up and Morph burrowed into it, nibbling contentedly on one of his fingers.

"You know, Gabe, you're actually kinda wise."

"Eh, I know. Perfection is hard to attain, but just look at me." Sam chuckled. They stood in silence for a moment more, comfortably enjoying each other's presence. 

"Why did you come after me?" Sam eventually asked, leaning next to Gabriel. Gabriel shrugged, shoulder brushing Sam's arm. 

"Felt like the right thing to do, I guess," Gabriel said, glancing up at Sam.

"Do that often?"

"No, not normally. 'Tsa bit strange, doing the right thing." Gabriel smirked at Sam, mouth curling up. Sam's lips twisted into a half-smile. "Plus, you kinda remind me of myself as a young'un." 

"Gabriel, you're only like five years older than me."

"Try seven, kiddo."

Sam shook his head, laughing. The stars seemed to burn brighter, lighting up the side of his face with an eerie glow. 

"What do you mean, I remind you of yourself? Last I checked I was taller than you and didn't have a hunk of metal for an arm," Sam teased, flicking out at Gabriel's cyber arm. Gabriel rolled his eyes at Sam's antics and reached out to ruffle his hair as Sam leaned closer. 

"Shut it, Sasquatch. I meant in attitude. Young, strong, pigheaded." Gabriel poked at Sam's side, smiling. "Sam... you're gonna be something special one day, kiddo. Gonna change the world. I just hope I'm there to see it." Morph butted Sam's wrist with his head, chattering away happily. Sam smiled down at Morph as he reached out to punch Gabriel's arm, missing him by mere inches. "Missed!" Gabriel said triumphantly, dancing away from Sam's outstretched fingers. Sam leaned over the railing, stretching his long fingers out to touch a speck of stardust floating by the ship. 

"Gabriel," Sam started, turning to face Gabriel, who was leaning with his back to the open space. A content smile had formed on his face, and his head was tilted back with one eye closed, the other blinking open slowly to find Sam.

"Yeah, Sam-I-Am?" 

Sam scratched the back of his neck, grinning at Gabriel. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it, kiddo." Gabriel shrugged a shoulder and waved a hand, gesturing for Sam to hurry down to the forecastle. On impulse, Sam reached down and kissed Gabriel gently on the cheek, pulling away slowly, expecting disgust to form in Gabriel's eyes. Instead, a fiery glow bloomed in their depths, and Sam was pulled down by the neck to meet Gabriel's lips in a crushing crescendo. 

"If you're gonna kiss me, Sam, do it right." Gabriel slotted their mouths together, pushing insistently into Sam's body. It quickly grew heated, Gabriel's tongue pushing past Sam's lips to gently stroke his teeth, begging for entry. They remained like that for a while, tongues tangling while Sam's hands felt their way to the small of Gabriel's back. Sam felt hands grip onto his hips, unable to tell the difference between the metal and the real one through his clothing. Gabriel pulled Sam's shirt up out of his trousers, exposing a slit of skin. Warm fingers touched his sides and Sam broke away, breathing heavily.

"Gabriel, wait-" he gasped, pulling Gabriel's hands away from his skin. The cold metal of his cybernetic hand helped Sam catch his breath, causing his head to clear. "Wait, we shouldn't -"

"You're right," Gabriel said, face shuttered where it had been open and expressive only moments before. He pulled his hands out of Sam's grip, backing away and putting a small distance in between them. It felt like miles when they had been so close before. Sam stared at Gabriel, confused as to why he was backing off. He was so mercurial, changing attitudes in a blink and reverting to his stony mask. "Go to bed, Sam."

"Wait. Gabriel, I didn't mean -" Sam started, only to be cut off by Gabriel.

"I know -" his face softened, looking more like the Gabriel whom Sam was used to - "I do, Sam. Really. I get it." He cast a smile in Sam's direction, one that never truly reached his eyes. "Just... go to bed, we both have first watch tomorrow." 

Sam nodded, averting his eyes as he turned away from Gabriel and headed toward the entrance to the forecastle. He heard a mutter come from behind him and looked back over his shoulder. Gabriel was leaning against the railing with his head in his hands. Ears burning and with no clue what to say to make it better, Sam descended the steps to the forecastle and stumbled into his hammock, praying that he'd dream of a solution.


End file.
